


Read Me Like An Open Book

by WhySoMarvelous



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Awesome Darcy Lewis, BAMF Darcy Lewis, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Because nope, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Darcy Lewis, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Got His Metal Arm Back In Wakanda, Bucky Never Chose To Be A Human Popsicle In Wakanda, Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Depression, F/M, Female Friendship, Looks like a dark fic but it's not, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Or a thousand, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Slow Burn, So much angst, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Suicidal Thoughts, Things will get happier, Thor (Marvel) is Not Stupid, Tony Stark Has A Heart, and smuttier of course, just nope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2018-10-25 03:36:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 39,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10755930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhySoMarvelous/pseuds/WhySoMarvelous
Summary: It all starts with a red book...Bucky's free from HYDRA's trigger words but not from what they made him do. When Natasha finds out where the book is and gets it back for Bucky, his past comes back with a vengeance.... then there's a diary...Steve thinks that his life is finally on the right track. The Accords have been renegotiated and the Avengers can now intervene again in case a country needs them and asks them to. He's mending his relationship with Tony. His best friend keeps getting better. But when Steve gets his hands on Bucky's diary, he realizes that he's been lying to himself and things are far from okay.... then comes a sketchbook.Darcy is lost. Now that Thor and Jane broke up, the astrophysicist wants a fresh start, which means bye bye Darcy. With no job and no possibility to go back to a normal civilian life, Darcy finds herself at an impasse. A chance for her that the Avengers seem to have made an habit of collecting strays. Now if only they could help her find her life a purpose, too, that'd be great...(Or how lost books that are found can result in great things)





	1. The Red Book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it. My first fanfic posted in years. I'm both terrified and excited.
> 
> Just so you know, English isn't my first language but I have an awesome beta reader--many thanks to Booming Softly for helping me (and don't forget to check out her fics. Trust me, you don't want to miss them!) <3 
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy this fic! And please, let me know what you think! Thank you! :)
> 
> M.

The red book with the ~~red~~ black star sits on the table in front of him, right where Natalia put it earlier. Bucky doesn’t know if he’s been looking at it for five minutes or five hours. Time seems to have slowed down and frozen since Natalia came and went like a ghost.

His mind tells ~~screams at~~ him to open the notebook.

He wants to. Wants it more than anything else in the world at this very moment.

Because he has to see for himself what’s inside it, even if Steve has already told him what’s in there.

There’s info about him in there,mixed in with info about the other subjects of the Winter Project and different HYDRA bases throughout the world. His mission success rates, his skills, the things that can trigger him and make him go into a killing spree, the blueprint of his metal arm and the way to deactivate the traps inside of it, and the drugs to use on him to make him compliant and as unthreatening as possible are all specified, as well as the blueprints of the chair and the cryo tank (just in case one or both of those items has to be built if the few existing ones scattered around the globe weren’t available for a reason or another).

But that’s not what he’s dying to see with his own eyes.

Because all of those things—he knows them.

He remembers them now because, with no brainwashing or cryo for years, his brain has had the time to completely heal ~~(un)fortunately~~.

He remembers the torture and his training. Every painful ~~second~~ minute of it. He remembers his trainees. The ones he’s turned into merciless monsters like him. The ones he’s executed. ~~“Too weak.”/“Too slow.”/“Only the best for HYDRA.”~~ He remembers his victims. Every face and word ~~“Please, let my son live!~~ ~~ _No! Ivan! Iv—_~~ ~~”~~ and scream and tear and sound and smell and witness killed ~~“No failure allowed, Soldier. Eliminate the mission and any witness or there will be punishment”~~.

There’s only one thing he doesn’t remember anymore from his time as the Winter Soldier.

The list.

Ten words. Ten innocent words, according to Steve. (“I know those words probably have some hidden meaning but... I don’t know... I guess I didn’t imagine they’d be so... innocent.” _Jesus, Stevie, don’t. Don’t say more. I. Can’t. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t_ — “I really didn’t imagine HYDRA using such words to... well, you know.”)

But Steve is wrong. So, so wrong.

Because even if Bucky never remembers them, he still knows they’re anything but innocent.

They’re full of blood. Dripping with it.

Just like his hands.

That’s why he has to see them. He has to see what made him a puppet in the hands of HYDRA for a lifetime ~~an eternity~~ and coated his hands with so much red.

(Every time someone on the news accuses Bucky of being an assassin ~~“That man,~~ ~~ _that monster,_~~ ~~should be prosecuted in a state or a country where death penalty is still~~ ~~legal~~ ~~.”/“Why are we even talking about this? If he pressed the trigger or activated the bomb, he’s guilty. Period.”/“We’ve all seen the footage of him. He’s unpredictable and dangerous. He’s like a rabid dog. And what do we do with a rabid animal? We put it down.”~~ Steve keeps repeating to him that he was the weapon, yes, but HYDRA was the assassin, the one who really pressed the trigger.

But those words are no comfort to Bucky because he doesn’t think like Steve.

He never did.

He doesn’t consider what he did during the war to be for the greater good. He knows he’s an assassin, was one long before he fell from that train in the Alps. World War II and governments with agendas made him that way well before HYDRA. Made him kill not enemies for the most part, but kids and men probably as lost and scared and unwilling as him ~~or with romanticized notions of war like Steve had back then.~~ They all had to fight, participating in the bloodbath, whether it was through enlisting ~~“America is our country now,~~ ~~ _dragule_~~ ~~. You oughta fight to protect it. It’s your duty. You don’t want your~~ ~~ _mamă_~~ ~~and~~ ~~ _surori_~~ ~~to have to leave everything behind them and flee again, do you? So be a man and do what you have to do to protect them.”~~ or through the draft.

In the end, he wasn’t really willing to go to war. Just like he wasn’t willing to kill for HYDRA. So, was there a real difference between the two? Despite all the hours he’s spent thinking about it, Bucky still doesn’t know. He’s pulled the trigger for both, that’s the only thing he’s sure of.

Inhaling deeply, as if to give himself the courage to do what he aches to do, Bucky’s metal hand reaches towards the red book... but stops before making contact.

His metal hand immediately balls into a tight fist, and the plates of his arm ~~weapon/abomination~~ whirring faintly as they move, rearranging themselves to execute the movement.

He can’t do it. He wants to look at those damn words but _he can’t_.

Logically, he knows that what’s inside that notebook can’t affect him anymore, thanks to the prototype that Stark sent to Wakanda: a new technology that modifies traumatic memories ~~(~~ ~~ _Just don’t want you to murder someone’s else parents,_~~ ~~ _Robokiller. So don’t thank me,_~~ ~~the note said)~~. It doesn’t change anything.

The fear of the book is still there, as ingrained in him as the Winter Soldier.

T’Challa told him that Stark’s machine could get rid of all of that for him, but he just couldn’t allow himself to do it.

He can’t let himself erase everything and start over with a clean slate. It’s not right. Not when those he’s killed can’t come back. Not when those he’s hurt ~~like Stark~~ ~~’s son~~ are still hurting. ~~He doesn’t deserve that peace.~~

Closing his eyes, he takes hold of the book cover and finally opens it. When his eyes are open again, he sees them.

Those ten words hand-written in Russian.

A flood of memories and thoughts assaults him. His voice and many, many others invade his mind, producing a cacophony that would have driven him mad if he wasn’t already halfway there.

 

**_longing_** ( _Mamă’s soft words in Romanian before bed when he was a little boy, Stevie’s skinny face, his sisters’ laughters, Tată’s accent, Stevie’s wheezing breath during the night that meant that he was still alive, a pencil and a piece of paper, Stevie’s drawings, Sarah Rogers’ cooking and her Irish songs, the soft curves of a woman, red lips like heaven and sin, the smell of cologne and perfume and smoke and Brooklyn and—_ ~~ _I wanna die. That’s all I want. Oh God, please, let me die. Please, please, please, I beg you—_~~ )

 

**_rusted_ ** (“It’s outdated. They’re better, faster and stronger than it. It’s of no use anymore. Put it in cryo and store it in the warehouse.”)

 

**_seventeen_ ** (“Congratulations, Soldier. Seventeen’s skills has been evaluated and deemed very good. She’ll become a perfect double agent. As a recompense for your hard work, we left something for you in your room. You know the rule. Enjoy it and end it.”)

 

**_daybreak_** (“Everything you do is for the success of Mission Daybreak. We need you to create a better world. You do want a better world, don’t you?” asks the voice of Alexander Pierce in his head and he remembers nodding absentmindedly, his body full of chemicals and his brain dazed and hurting after the electroshocks but knowing somewhere, deep down, that it was what he indeed wanted, but also that if he didn’t agree with the handler’s words, the white hot pain and the confusing voices in his head will come back again. And he’d do anything, _anything_ , for that to not happen.)

 

**_furnace_ ** (The result of the cheap version of Steve’s serum he received. Sometimes, he feels his temperature rising and can’t do anything but wait it out while the serum makes him feel like he’s being burnt alive. ~~_His veins, his bones, his brain, his limbs, his flesh... His whole being feels like it’s on fire. He’s in Hell... or Hell is a place inside himself._~~ )

 

**_nine_ ** (The number of deadly traps inside his arm to prevent him from tearing or accessing himself the inside of it to get rid of the tracker and the vials of poison/EMP hidden somewhere in the mechanism. “Try to escape again and you’re dead. Is that clear, Soldier?”)

 

**_benign_** (Zola’s face. ~~The devil himself.~~ Little Nastenka and her babydoll face. ~~“My name’s Anastasia but Mama calls me Nastenka. You can call me that too if you want. And you? What’s your name?”~~ Still the prettiest little girl he’s ever seen, even dead, her head lying at an odd angle, her blue eyes wide-open and looking right at him, her murderer. ~~“It’s a shame she wasn’t good enough. We could have had use of a beauty like her.”~~ )

 

**_homecoming_** (What he’s never known and will never know. He’ll never return ~~to Stevie~~ home because he’ll never be not afraid and cold ~~so cold~~ and alone so he’ll never truly ~~be James Buchanan Barnes/Bucky/a man/human again~~ have a place that is safe and warm again.)

 

**_one_** (Alone. One arm. ~~One metal arm.~~ Zola’s chosen one. The first Winter Soldier.)

 

**_freight car_ ** (The end. The beginning.)

 

Steve was wrong.

Those words ~~most of those words~~ didn’t have any special meaning to HYDRA.

But they meant everything to him.

When a teardrop falls on the page he’s been looking at, splashing on the word “longing,” Bucky finally closes the book. He carefully takes it and goes in his room to hide it under his mattress to have it close to him and within easy reach.

 

From then on, every morning or night when he wakes up after the umpteenth violent nightmare, his first reflex is to grab the red notebook and read the list, one word after the other, one ~~horror~~ memory at a time.

It hurts. 

Hurts more than the drill digging through his flesh and bones and tearing off what little remains of his left arm.

Hurts more than the cold seeping through him—his skin, his skeleton, his mind, his soul—and becoming an eternal part of him.

Hurts more than the electricity running through his skull and brain, taking away every little thing that makes him a person until he’s only a black hole, a blank slate.

Hurts more than anything HYDRA ever came up with to destroy him and make him an empty shell, a void.

And yet, he keeps doing it. Again and again.

There’s not a day that passes without him reaching for the book with the red cover and the ~~red~~ black star to stare at the words.

Because that’s what he deserves. For all the awful things he did to this world, to make it the twisted way it is now, it’s only justice for him to feel pain for all the people who suffered—are still suffering—because of his work.

Free of HYDRA or not, there’s no happy ending for ~~James Buchanan Barnes?/Bucky?/Who the hell am I?~~ him. There’ll never be. He knew it from the moment he joined the army ~~because it was the right thing to do and, in his place, his father and skinny Stevie would have done it without hesitation if they could have~~ that it just wasn’t in the cards for him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked this chapter, please leave a comment! But, well, if you don't have the time or just don't know what to write, clicking on the Kudos button will do ;)
> 
> M.


	2. The Diary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 2! (Don't get used to the quick updates, I'm usually not that fast at posting. Sorry.)
> 
> Just so you know, this fic will be from Bucky's POV, Steve's POV and Darcy's POV. I don't know if I'll always switch the POVs like this or if I'll end up choosing one of them later and occasionally do a chapter from the POV of one of the two other characters. We'll see. 
> 
> I also wanted to thank you all for reading my fic. You all made my day. No, my weekend. I never expected anyone except a few people to read that fic so it's a nice and welcome surprise to see the number of hits, the kudos and the few comments in just one day :)
> 
> And many thanks to my beta reader Blooming Softly. 
> 
> M.

Steve is certain he isn’t supposed to know about its existence. Isn’t supposed to see what secrets are hiding between its pages. But because the diary similar to the one he discovered in Bucky’s room in Bucharest is here, lying on the ground as if waiting to be found and picked up by him, he gives in to temptation. He takes it and opens it at the page that’s been bookmarked.

He should have left the book where it was.

Inside is everything he ignored since Bucky was back.

Bucky is alive, free from HYDRA and their trigger words, and by his side—so how can anything be wrong? Nothing, according to Steve. _Everything_ , according to the messy words angrily scrawled across every inch of the two pages in front of his eyes. It’s hard to decipher the meaning of all this, the sentences interrupted before they can make sense or whole paragraphs of writing crossed out until they’re unreadable.

His heart lodged in his throat, Steve turns the page.

Bile rises in his throat. On the two pages in front of him are a list of all the most horrible words Bucky came up with to describe himself.

**Murderer.**

**Torturer.**

**Rapist.**

**Monster.**

**Abomination.**

And the list keeps going on and on and on.

“ _Jesus..._ ”

Tears come to Steve’s eyes. How can he not have realized how bad his best friend feels? He knows Bucky is riddled with guilt, has nightmares and sometimes loses himself in his own head due to a flashback, making him forget where and when he is. But he’d been convinced Bucky was really doing better since he’d been treated with Stark’s prototype to make him as stable and safe as possible given his heavy trauma.

Apparently, he’d been completely wrong.

He looks at another page and what he finds makes him feel like someone has gripped his heart in a vise. It’s a black and white pencil sketch made by Bucky of himself as the Winter Soldier in the middle of what looks like a sea of his victims, their fingers gripping him and trying to tear him apart and drown him with them at the same time.

But the worst part is the look on his face. It can only be described as acceptance. Like it’s only right for him to end this way.

Steve has never fallen apart since waking up in the 21st century.

Not when Nick Fury told him he was in the future and he realized everyone he’d ever cared about was gone.

Not when he discovered Peggy had Alzheimer’s when he visited her for the first time, and in the middle of their conversation she looked at him and frowned, asking, “Hello, young man. Who are you?”

Not even when he found out about Bucky being The Winter Soldier.

But this drawing? It’s too much.

Unable to contain his sorrow any longer, Steve lets himself slide to the floor and cries.

Any of those previous times when he felt despair invading him, he found a reason to keep going. Finding himself in the 21st century? At least he could be useful, help people, stand up for what was right. Peggy momentarily forgetting who he is? Well, it was hard, but he could tell her about the past, about them, until her memories came back to her. Bucky being The Winter Soldier? He would find him, get him back, and make him remember who he was and who Steve was to him.

But Bucky being still so haunted and full of self-hatred after his therapy, Stark’s machine getting him rid of HYDRA’s programming and all he did to help the Avengers getting rid of the Nazi’s organization once and for all?

He can’t deal with it. It’s too hard.

Because Steve is only realizing now that maybe Bucky will never be well again. Maybe he’ll always feel guilty and haunted and depressed. And there isn’t anything that he can do to help his best friend. He can only watch him struggle, helpless like he’d been when he was a skinny kid who had health problems upon health problems. Because it’s an enemy who only exists in Bucky’s head, one only he himself can fight... and maybe it’s one that even someone as strong and resilient as Bucky can’t defeat.

Some terrible part of Steve can’t help but wonder if it wouldn’t have been better for Bucky if he’d died when he’d fallen from that damn train. At least he wouldn’t have suffered during seventy years and wouldn’t be still suffering.

Steve has no idea how long he remains on the floor, tear tracks on his face and dark thoughts swirling in his head. He only knows that he snaps back to reality when he hears Bucky’s voice.

“Steve?”

A sentiment of panic overwhelms Steve when his eyes fall on the diary he’s still holding in his hands. It’s private. He has no right to read it—just like he had no right to look inside the one in Bucharest. In a hurry, he wipes all traces of tears from his face and stands up before spotting the dresser close to him and hiding the book inside. He’ll put it back in Bucky’s room as soon as possible, but right now, the only thing that matters is to not let his friend know that he knows about his most secret and terrible thoughts.

“Hey. What are—”

Bucky stops talking as soon as he sees Steve coming toward him. Steve immediately feels dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. He knows that expression. Bucky has sensed that something isn’t right with him. His friend can always tell when he’s bluffing—well, almost anyone can but Bucky better than most.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Steve answers.

He can tell by the way Bucky’s eyes slightly narrow that he answered too quickly. Or maybe it’s the tone that wasn’t quite as relaxed as he’d wanted it to be.

“Hey jerk, what do you say we go to the—” Steve starts saying, approaching his friend with a smile plastered on his face.

But Bucky’s gaze suddenly sweeps over the apartment before zeroing in on the dresser in which he hid the diary. Steve breathes in sharply. _How?_ How does he know something is wrong with the piece of furniture? Bucky casts a quick look in Steve’s direction before walking to the dresser and opening it.

“Bucky...”

But it’s too late. He can tell the moment when his best friend notices the book. His whole body becomes tense, rigid even, before he grabs the evidence of the crime and slowly straightens up. He remains back to him as if unable to face him right now.

“I—” Steve begins but words are failing him.

What can he say? There’s no excuse for what he’s done.

“ _Why?_ ” he hears Bucky whisper and he sounds so broken, so small, it feels like Steve just has been punched with Bucky’s metal arm.

He messed up. Badly.

“I don’t know... I... Guess I was curious. Didn’t realize how wrong it was until it was too late... I’m sorry, Buck.”

Bucky doesn’t answer. After two long minutes of silence, Steve begins to worry.

“Say something. Anything _._ ”

“I...” Bucky croaks but he doesn’t say more.

“You, what?”

“I never wanted you to know any of this,” he says, turning around and revealing a face stricken with grief and blue eyes filled with hopelessness.

Upon seeing Bucky in such a state, Steve crosses the distance between them in quick strides and takes him in his arms. Bucky usually freezes up and doesn’t dare touch him when Steve initiates physical contact, but this time he hugs him back immediately, without hesitation. He even squeezes him hard as if he’s afraid Steve will go away.

They stay like that for what seems an eternity and no time at all. When they pull apart, Steve is reluctant to let go of his friend and Bucky clearly feels the same way.

“I...” Bucky begins, his eyes boring into his, but quickly falls silent and averts his gaze.

“What?”

“Nothing,” his best friend sighs, shaking his head as if to chase some thought away.

“Tell me, Buck. What were you gonna say?”

“I... I-I can’t,” he finally says hurriedly before storming out of the apartment.

Steve stays where he is, feeling cold to the bone. Bucky was about to say something important. He just knows it.

After remaining rooted to the spot for a long moment, Steve sighs and retrieves his sketchbook in his room before sitting on the couch. He needs to clear his head a bit, to forget everything for a while. He only knows two ways to do it: drawing or destroying punching bags. Since he doesn’t want to risk meeting anyone in the state he is—because there will be questions and he really doesn’t feel like talking to anyone but Bucky right now—drawing it is.

His charcoal pencil moves across the page without Steve even realizing what he is doing. Then, when the sheet is starting to reveal glimpses of the final result, he abruptly stops.

Because those mirthful eyes, those full lips, that smile radiating with warmth and that touch of smugness, sarcasm and bitterness that can instantly turn a bad day into a good day, he knows them better than his own face.

He’s drawing Bucky. Or rather Past Bucky as he has surprised himself by thinking many times, always in the privacy of his own mind. Past Bucky who’s gone for good... just like Steve Rogers from Brooklyn seems to have never made it to the 21st century.

On an impulse, Steve tears off the page of the sketchbook and crumbles it in his fist.

Bucky is back but not really. In some ways, Bucky indeed died when he fell off the train in the Alps. Just like Steve Rogers from Brooklyn disappeared with him when he did and only Captain Rogers remained.

So maybe it’s time for Steve to come to terms with that and say goodbye to the memory of Bucky he’s clinging to in order for him to really be able to accept, support and love without reservation and unrealistic expectations this new Bucky.

And maybe it’s also time for him to face the truth and accept that he, too, isn’t who he used to be and doesn’t know who he is anymore except for Captain America.

Maybe it’s time for him to face his greatest opponent yet: himself.

The thing is... he doesn’t know if he has it in him to throw himself into this very battle and win it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked this chapter, please leave a comment! But, well, if you don't have the time or just don't know what to write, clicking on the Kudos button will do ;)
> 
> M.


	3. The Sketchbook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 3! Finally! Sorry for the wait. 
> 
> I'm not completely satisfied with this chapter but there's a moment you gotta stop editing and just post the damn thing before you take a radical decision like deleting everything ^^
> 
> Also, I found a beta reader. Thank you, Blooming Softly. 
> 
> Now on with Darcy's POV. Happy reading! :)

“Wow...” Darcy says when she picks up the sketchbook that can only be Steve Rogers’. 

Sure there isn’t a name on it or in it and she had no idea that Steve was an artist but the sketches of James can only be his. Well, his or Natasha’s; Darcy is sure as hell that something happened between James and Natasha when they were both in the hands of Mother Russia because Natasha sometimes has this soft, melancholic look in her eyes when she stares at James and there’s no reason for it since they have no interaction at the Avengers Facility. Actually, Natasha is always curiously absent whenever James feels like spending more than five minutes in the same room as the rest of the team.

After all, she can only notice all those things because she has nothing to do except ogle the ridiculously good looking people in here. Not that she’s complaining because it’s a nice pastime... but she’s digressing.

Darcy noticed black smudges on Steve’s fingers a few times, so Steve it is. Plus, even if it is Natasha, Darcy has a feeling the Widow would have preferred fucking James into the mattress than spending hours drawing his smile. Not that James’s panty-dropping smile isn’t worth a few hours of drawing but hey, priorities.

“Holy Frigga,” she gasps, gobsmacked.

She knows Steve isn’t a stuck-up virgin—how Stark can believe that is beyond her—because, even if he’s always respectful, she caught him checking her goods a few times. Yet she didn’t know he was... how can she say that... into NSFW sketches. Though, at this level, it’s a goddamn work of art. Okay, maybe the subject is a fucking sculpture of perfection himself but being able to draw James like Steve did, it requires an incredible talent.

She feels a little bad for looking at what is apparently a very private memory or fantasy but she can’t tear her eyes off this drawing for the life of her.

Given the haircut, it’s a sketch of James in the forties. He’s naked from the thighs up and is obviously washing himself in what seems to be a lake. You can tell only by looking at his closed eyes, the almost palpable relief on his face and the way the corners of his mouth are tugging up that he’s thankful to be able to finally get clean again.

She has never seen him look anywhere that happy since coming to live here. Actually, she doesn’t think she ever heard him laugh or even saw anything resembling a smile on his face.

Darcy contemplates the drawing a little longer, wondering what could make James smile nowadays, after everything he’s gone through, when she suddenly notices something.

She gulps hard.

That sketch isn’t a fantasy of Steve but a memory of their time together during WWII.

The dog tags and the background with the tents should have made her realize that earlier.

And if not that, she should have noticed the way James’s ribs are starting to really show.

Obviously, it’s nowhere near a “dirty” drawing like she thought at first because an underfed James isn’t something Steve—or anyone really—would fantasize about.

It’s just a memory of James being happy for a brief moment during terrible times that Steve wanted to immortalize.

Uneasy but unable to close the sketchbook and leave it alone, Darcy turns the page and looks at another drawing of James.

This one is of him in a bed, a woman sleeping peacefully with her head on his chest and one of her hands splayed on his stomach.

Darcy read about the womanizer that James was before the war. There are even two or three movies that have been made just about that fact, including one that has the ridiculous name of “The Casanova of Brooklyn.” She may have been guilty of having watched that piece of shit just because the actor playing James was hot—though nowhere near James’s past or current level of hotness—and her teenage self hadn’t cared about things like plot, awful lines or historical accuracy. (Okay, her adult self doesn’t much care about those things either when the lead male has a killer six pack, but that isn’t the point.) From the few interviews she and her friends back in high school read when they were in their “Captain Tight-Ass and his Smoking-Hot Commandos” phase, every woman who’s been seduced and laid by James Barnes had no complaint to make about him. He’s always been a gentleman, never promised more than what he offered, always treated a woman right and showed her a good time—a very good time according to one woman named Betty—and he always remained friendly with his lady friends afterward.

Somehow, judging by this drawing, Darcy has a feeling the only person who’s ever been hurt by James’s ways was Steve.

Because goddammit, the man is in love with his best friend and has been for a very long time apparently.

How hard it must have been for him to see James with those women and having what he could never have...

She looks at the next page and the next and the next and she comes to a conclusion: she wants to find Steve and hug him to the next century... except she can’t do it without giving away the fact that she saw his sketchbook filled with drawings of the love of his life.

What a fucking mess.

“I was wondering where I left it.”

What a fucking mess indeed. Her heart in her throat, Darcy slowly turns around to face Steve, whose closed-off expression makes her sick to her stomach.

She did it.

She actually succeeded in ruining any chance of their blossoming friendship ever becoming a solid one. All of this because she can’t mind her own fucking business.

“I...” She falls silent, then shakes her head. She’s not someone who won’t admit she’s guilty when she’s done something wrong. “For what it’s worth, I’m really sorry.”

Without another word, Darcy goes to Steve and gives him his sketchbook back. As soon as he grabs it, she takes off toward the door. At the last moment, she turns around to give him a last look.

She can only see Steve’s profile but his posture, the way his shoulders are slumped like he’s carrying the weight of the world and with his head lowered, breaks her heart.

She just can’t leave him alone right now.

“Steve,” she calls him and his head snaps in her direction.

His expression is unreadable. She can tell he’s not angry with her, for what she’s done and for the fact she’s still here—and she's incredibly relieved to see that—but she can’t tell what’s really going on with him except that he’s clearly not okay.

Taking a deep breath, she decides to chance the idea forming in her head.

“Can I give you a hug?”

Looking utterly surprised, he opens his mouth but nothing comes out. She waits several long moments, half-fearing he’ll reject her, and when there’s still nothing, she comes to a conclusion: if he didn’t voice his refusal right away, it must mean he’s okay with her proposition but doesn’t know how to say yes because it would make him vulnerable. Maybe he even thinks it would imply that he’s weak, and one look at the man is enough to get that Steve never allows himself to be anything but strong.

On a whim, she walks up to him and embraces him, not giving him the chance to change his mind. She squeezes him as hard as she can for him to know that whatever he’s going through, he’s not alone.

He remains frozen, his arms hanging limply to his sides and all the muscles in his body coiled. It’s like he’s being attacked instead of being hugged. It could have been funny if the implications when you take the time to think about them weren’t so terrible.

“You can drop the facade and stop pretending everything’s fine, Steve. Captain America isn’t needed here because you’re not my leader and I’m not a member of your team. It’s just a moment between two friends. And you can be yourself and show and tell everything to a friend.”

He exhales loudly and his arms slowly come around her, probably trying to be mindful not to crush her with his super strength... or maybe it’s been so long since he hugged someone that he’s not sure how to do it anymore.

The second hypothesis is so awful that Darcy doesn’t even want to consider it. She chases any thought away, just remains how she is, with Steve in her arms.

Surprisingly, she’s the one who breaks the embrace after some time. Steve lets her go without a fight but he looks like he wishes it would have go on longer. To not have to speak about what’s plaguing him or because he’s that touch-starved, Darcy doesn’t know.

There’s a lot she doesn’t know about Steve Rogers, but she plans on changing that and soon.

“How long?” she dares ask him after a moment of charged silence.

It’s clear in his gaze and on his face that he doesn’t need her to elaborate. He knows what she’s asking him.

He focuses on some imaginary point on the opposite wall, a faraway look in his eyes.

“I don’t think there’s ever been a day I didn’t love him...”

Even in those few words, you can feel how big, how puissant is Steve’s love for James. It’s the kind of love they write about in poignant stories, the kind they show in tragic movies and the kind they sing about in timeless songs. But it’s real here and it’s much more terrible than any book, script or lyrics could ever be because Steve always loved that man but obviously never told him how much.

And the worst is that he thought he lost him twice—first, in that HYDRA’s camp in Europe, then when James fell from the train—and now they’re finally reunited and they could be together... except they can’t.

James doesn’t know who he is and has to find himself before Steve can ever hope to find out if anything is finally possible between them.

Darcy doesn’t think she ever heard something as beautiful and heartbreaking as that sentence.

“Why?”

Once again, she doesn’t need to say more. She can tell he knows what she wants to know.

“Because I was a sick kid who had every chance to die before he was twenty-five so I couldn’t even imagine a future. Then I was Captain America... and there was Peggy... and I had every chance to die before the war was over. Now Bucky is trying to find who he is so how could I tell him?” He pauses before adding. “And...”

“And?” Darcy repeats, knowing what he’s not saying but wanting to hear it anyway.

“... and I don’t know if he’s... if he feels the same way.”

She can practically affirm that James does feel the same way, even if he’s probably not really conscious of his feelings right now because he has so much on his plate already that figuring that out is not a priority to him. But she won’t tell Steve that. First because she can be wrong—even if it’s highly unlikely in her opinion—and also because Steve’s feelings for James aren’t what matters right now.

The priority right now is for James to accept and get over his past (as James Buchanan Barnes _and_ The Winter Soldier) and reconnect with his feelings, desires and needs and find out who he is today. But, obviously, Steve needs to confront his trauma and his past, too, given how bad he seems to feel.

Both of them can’t hope to ever be in a healthy and happy relationship if they don’t deal with their problems first. And they deserve to be happy after everything they suffered so she doesn’t want them to rush into a relationship because it would end up in a disaster, she’s sure of that.

“Wanna hear something funny... or weird, depending on how you look at it?” she asks him, feeling like it’s high time for them to move on to a new topic.

Steve stares at her, eyebrow raised. He seems both taken aback by the question and a bit wary.

“I had a huge crush on you and James when I was a teenager.”

“ _What?_ ”

He looks so flabbergasted it’s funny. No doubt, the distraction worked. He won’t be thinking about his confession about James now.

“You heard about us when you were kid?”

“Of course. Probably everyone heard about how Captain America and his Howling Commandos saved the world during World War and how we would be living in a dystopia right now without you—though, if you want my opinion, we finally ended up getting some kind of dystopian world given what happens in many countries, our own included.”

He doesn’t seem to know how to react after that. It’s like she just dropped a bomb on him or something.

“It’s the dystopia part or the students learning about you in school part that made your brain crash?” she asks him.

“The dystopia part. I don’t know what that means.”

“Well, you probably already read a book about one without knowing it, but if you need a definition, let’s say it’s the exact opposite of an utopia. Like a government with frightening methods and laws. You must have heard about The Hunger Games, The Handmaid’s—”

“The Hunger Games? What’s that?”

“ _Really?_ You weren’t frosted in the last five years so how can you not—”

She squints her eyes, notices the way his mouth is slightly lifting up at the corners. Of course it was all an act. He damn well knows what a dystopia and The Hunger Games are.

“You fucking troll. I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” he retorts with a small smile—and it’s not much, the sadness is still in his eyes, but she’ll take it because it’s better than him wallowing in memories, regrets and somber thoughts.

“No I don’t,” Darcy says and her tone is a bit softer and, because his gaze is turning a bit softer, too, she looks away, suddenly feeling unsure and shy. “Anyway, what was I saying? Ah yeah, my teenage crush on one Brooklyn idiot and his best friend. So, my girls and I were big fans of Captain Peach and—”

She snaps her mouth shut suddenly, her mistake dawning on her when it’s already too late. And it is too late because Steve got a glint in his eye that tells her he heard what she said and he won’t let it drop. At this very moment, she knows she’s about to hate that mischievous part of Steve that she usually adores—seriously, who would have guessed that Captain America was such a funny guy underneath the tight suit and the cowl?

“Captain Peach?” he repeats and the asshole is smirking at her.

“I hate you so much right now,” she mutters but knows he can hear her and he proves her right by chuckling. “So, yeah, Captain Peach...”

She hesitates but finally decides to tell him everything.

“First, promise me to not laugh.”

“Lying isn’t in my nature. I can’t do that,” he says so innocently and seriously that if she didn’t know him a little like she does, she would have thought he wasn’t messing with her.

“You truly are an asshole, you know that?”

He holds back a laugh. She can feel his amusement get to her but not wanting to drop her facade of irritation just now—because she enjoys the reactions she gets out of him when he thinks he’s really annoying her when, really, she’s more embarrassed by her teenage self than anything else—she forces herself to not react.

“Okay, so keep in mind that we were young and stupid and almost anything was funny to us.”

“Darcy...”

“Okay, okay. So, yeah, we loved watching war propaganda clips with you, James, Peggy and the other Howling Commandos. I guess you could say that we liked the... aesthetics of them.”

“The aesthetics?”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” she tells him, rolling her eyes because she’s almost positive he’s pulling her leg again.

His reaction proves her wrong.

“ _Oh..._ ”

Is she imagining things or is Steve really blushing? From the way he averts his gaze, he probably is. Now that they roles are reversed and he’s in her position, she feels amused and can’t help but want to tease him a little.

“I gotta say we especially liked how well you filled the old suit in certain areas.”

His mouth gapes open like a fish. When he realizes it, he shuts it with an audible click of his teeth clashing together. He puts up his “Captain America is disappointed in you” face on and stares at her. She would have been intimidated if she didn’t know he just was hiding his embarrassment.

“But you were kids... It’s... wrong.”

She looks at him and puts on her “Are you serious right now?” face. She can tell he’s surprised—certainly because no one except Natasha and James ever resisted the Captain America trademark face—and not unaffected by it, even if he tries to not let it show.

“Winning a stare-down contest against Captain (Freedom, Justice and) America” is another thing she can put on her resume, just under “Saving the world from elves who don’t look like Legolas” and “Tazing the God of Biceps and Thunder”.

“ _Please..._ Like Teenage Steve never ogled James when he was bare-chested or naked.”

From the way his cheeks redden again, he probably looked a lot at Teenage James.

“See? You weren’t more innocent back then than we were. But back to the topic. Like I said, we watched a lot of videos, and after some time, we finally noticed something that showed up only when you had your back to the camera.”

“What?”

“Something unique and truly out of this world. Something that _you_ were unfairly hiding from everyone.”

“What is it?” he asks and his tone is both prudent and curious.

Oh, he was about to regret saying those words...

“Your perfect, round, ripe peach.”

“I—You— _What?_ ” he splutters, looking baffled.

Barely containing her hilarity now, she looks around, and when she realizes there’s no fruit basket, she takes out her Stark Phone and opens Google. She types the word and clicks on Google Images. When she finds the perfect one, she opens it and holds out her phone to Steve. Hesitantly—and isn’t it funny that Captain America never is afraid of any bad guy but seems terrified of something she gives to him—he takes it and looks at it.

She knows the exact moment when he connects the dots and understands what she was talking about all along. He blinks hard a few times but remains silent, his eyes glued to the screen.

“You okay? I didn’t break you, did I? Because I’d really hate being charged for treason...”

“Huh,” he lets out, finally watching her. “I didn’t know my ass looked that good.”

There’s a moment of incomprehension and incredulity, and then Darcy’s howling with laughter. It’s not long before Steve imitates her.

Steve Rogers is the ultimate troll and no one will ever convince her otherwise.

Unfortunately, their moment is broken by FRIDAY’s intervention.

“Captain Rogers. Sir is asking for a videoconference with you and the team in five minutes.”

Steve looks at the ceiling and sighs. She can see his Captain America persona come back little by little, making him this inaccessible and almost cold person he seems to be when you don’t know the man inside the superhero.

“Tell him we’ll be there,” he replies to FRIDAY.

“Will do, Captain.”

There’s a few moments of tense silence, then Steve looks at her again and she can see the guy she was joking with a minute ago. A small smile is playing on his face and there’s something she can’t name shining in his gaze.

“Thank you,” he tells her sincerely.

She doesn’t know for what he’s thanking her for exactly, if it’s because she listened to him or because she made him forget about everything for a while, but she nods anyway.

“See you around, Darcy.”

“Bye.”

He’s heading toward the door when he suddenly stops and turns around after some seconds. He seems so serious she’s almost afraid to hear what he’s about to say.

“Captain America gives youpermission to look,” he finally declares before walking to the door.

She huffs out a laugh, but stares at his peach-like ass because Captain America himself told her to do so, so who is she to deny him?

When the door of the communal room closes behind him, she lets out a relieved breath. She might have ridiculed herself but it’d been for Steve’s morale so it was worth it.

And at least she hasn’t had to give him the explanation behind the name of the Bananas Commandos.

Now _that_ would have been embarrassing...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked this chapter, please leave a comment! But, well, if you don't have the time or just don't know what to write, clicking on the Kudos button will do ;)
> 
> M.


	4. The Dress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here! Chapter 4 is finally here! 
> 
> Enjoy! :D 
> 
> Many thanks to Blooming Softly for beta reading this chapter. (Check out her fics. They're awesome.)
> 
> M.

When he steps inside the common room and sees the woman in the dress, so similar to one women in his time ~~Bucky’s time~~ would wear to go out, he feels like he just walked into a ~~nightmare~~ dream. A ~~nightmare~~ dream that tries to taunt him with a past ~~Bucky’s past~~ that he both wants to forget about and wishes he could go back to. ~~“Sarge! We’re~~ ~~ _waiting_~~ ~~! Are you coming or not? We wanna dance!”~~

He’s frozen like a deer in headlights. Memories bubble to the surface one after another like brutal waves submerging him and making it impossible for him to breathe. ~~“I don’t think I’m her idea of a date, Buck. You shouldn’t have told her about me. She’s bound to be disappointed when she sees me...” / “Listen to me, you stupid punk. Any dame would be lucky to have you as her date, you hear me? So stop thinking like that.” / “Hi Bucky! Who’s... um... your friend?”~~

“Hey! Just breathe, okay?”

He can hear the distant female voice talking to him but it’s drowning among all the other voices in his head. ~~“Dance with me, Bucky.” / “Don’t leave the dame waiting, jerk.” / “Come on, Stevie! Come with us.”~~ His, Steve’s, the ones of dames he’s known...

“ _Fuck!_ James? Do you hear me? Listen to my voice. Focus on it. Listen to my words and breathe with me, okay? Okay... Now breathe in. Now out. In. Out. In. Out. That’s it. You’re doing well, James. Keep breathing. In and out. Yeah. Just like that.”

After some ~~endless~~ time, Bucky starts to calm down and his breathing slowly returns to normal. When his mind stops confusing present and past, he finally focuses on the face in front of his.

He recognizes the woman right away. It’s Darcy Lewis, the civilian who knows the Asgardian and came to live at the Facility a few weeks ago for some reason only known to Natalia.

He’s seen her around, usually joking with Wilson, The Archer, Lang or sometimes Steve. (He remembers the time when the four of them were in the common room, Bucky sitting in a corner like a shadow, and she came in, saying “Hi Birdy, Arrow, Antz and Captain Tightland. How you doing?” He remembers the way they all laughed at Clint’s complaints about his nickname, wanting it to be “Mockingjay and not Arrow” for whatever reason that went over his head.)

They never spoke to each other and she keeps her distance with him, though. Not that he really cares or blames her. He wouldn’t want to be around himself ~~the brainwashed assassin~~ if he was her ~~or anyone else~~.

“You okay?” she asks him and he realizes he was starting to get lost in thoughts.

He nods before averting his gaze. He can’t stomach the compassion and the worry he sees in her eyes.

“Don’t.”

Her curt tone makes him look at her again. She must read the question he doesn’t ask ~~can’t ask because his mouth feels like it doesn’t know how to work most of the time~~ because she goes on.

“Don’t make that face. Because I know that face. It’s the “I’m sorry I’m a fucked up human being” face. And you know what? You shouldn’t feel ashamed or sorry because life dealt you a shitty hand.”

He remains expressionless and doesn’t respond. Yet, inwardly, he can’t help but be irritated with the woman. He’s so over people ~~Steve~~ telling him how he should feel and how he should act.

HYDRA did that enough during seventy years.

Anyway, she’s just a civilian who can’t even begin to comprehend what he went through and who never takes anything seriously from what he’s seen of her so her opinion isn’t worth much if you ask him.

“You know, I didn’t expect it but you’re rather easy to read. I can tell you’re wondering about who I am to tell you that when my life probably was a walk in the park.”

He freezes because her guess is spot on and it unnerves him. He used to be unreadable... but he supposes it’s gone just like everything else in his damn life.

“Don’t worry, you didn’t lose your spy skills,” she adds and it just gets on Bucky’s nerves even more because how does she do that? “It’s just me. I have a thing with reading people’s faces. With time I’ve even been able to decipher Natasha’s microexpressions and poker face. So you see, if I can guess what Natasha thinks, even though she's a master in the art of dissimulation, you don’t stand a chance.”

There’s a moment of silence and, then, Darcy laughs. It almost startles him because he didn’t see it coming. Which is comprehensible since there’s nothing funny in the current situation.

“I’m annoying you, aren’t I?” she asks him but he can tell that she’s not waiting for an answer. She already knows it. “I do that to a lot of people. It’s like my superpower.”

He doesn’t react but he silently agrees with her. She’s fucking annoying.

“Seriously, though, I meant what I said. You shouldn’t be sorry or ashamed because you’re damaged. I’m damaged, too, and I used to apologize or feel shame whenever I wouldn’t function like any other normal human being but I no longer do. Not anymore.”

“You? Damaged?” he says and he tries to not let it show but his disdain is evident in his words anyway.

Bucky can’t even begin to imagine what she could have gone through that could even compare to anything that he endured.

“Oh, I wasn’t fried up on a chair or frozen in a fridge like you’ve been but I have my fair share of trauma, trust me. Sure, if pain was a contest, you’d probably win the 1st prize and I’d probably not even be on the podium. But pain isn’t a contest. You can’t compare people’s pain. Everyone feels like what they’ve been through was the most terrible thing that could ever happen to someone. And you know what? Everyone has the right to feel like that. Because it’s not because the neighbor went through worse that your pain isn’t worth shit.”

Bucky doesn’t know if he’s stunned or in awe. One minute ago he was sure that this woman was the most irritating person that ever walked this earth but he’s not so sure anymore.

Because she just puts him in his place—like ~~Steve wouldn’t~~ nobody would have dared even if he would have gone too far—and he’s coming to the realization that he was wrong about her.

From her little speech, he can tell that she’s lived through hard experiences. She just is better at hiding her past than he is, apparently.

He doesn’t know what happened to her but he finds himself curious to know more about her—and it comes to him as a surprise, this sudden interest in her, because nothing was able to catch his attention lately.

Darcy offers him a bitter smile when she takes note of his reaction.

“Not so annoying anymore, huh?”

Unable to speak because he’s a little ashamed of himself for his hasty judgment of her, he merely shakes his head.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” she says, and her tone no longer has that cutting edge. “I know what people see when they look at me. And that’s okay. That’s exactly what I want everyone to see.”

He doesn’t say anything in response because he doesn’t know what he could tell her. He looks away after a moment. He just can’t stand her gaze anymore.

“My, my, my,” Darcy exclaims, her voice full of laughter, and he looks up at her, not understanding her reaction. “I thought Steve was the king of guilt but I’ve been mistaken. It’s clearly you, hands down.”

She rolls her eyes before smiling gently at him. He watches her as if she has suddenly grown two heads. How can she look at him like that? He treated her as though she was less than him. (As if anyone could ever be less than him.)

Her face slowly changes and takes on a pensive expression. After a moment, Darcy seems to come to a conclusion and takes a deep breath.

“I don’t know if you read my file or—”

“Natalia didn’t let me access it,” he cuts her off. “Said that you were clean, that I didn’t have to worry about you being HYDRA and that if I wanted to know more about you, I should just ask you.”

He’s fairly sure that he just strung together the longest sentence he’s given voice to in a long time.He doesn’t even know where it came from.

Darcy smiles at his confidence, her expression a combination of fondness and gratitude. Bucky didn’t realize that she and Natalia were so close. More evidence that he’s been wrong about Darcy. Natalia wouldn’t care about someone who’s not worthy of her interest, time and trust.

“So you didn’t read my file. Okay... Well, to sum my hero experience up, I’ve survived two alien invasions and... let’s just say it left some impressions on me. That’s why I’m familiar with PTSD. I’ve been where you’ve been. The mood swings, the panic attacks, the flashbacks, the nightmares, the insomnia, the depression, the guilt, the shame... I know it all.”

Bucky gulps hard because she has just exactly described his ~~nightmare of a~~ life. (He remembers this morning when he woke up suddenly, heart racing and thoughts a confusing mess of screams and blood, willing his body and mind to calm down only to notice how his hands were clutching a pillow as if it was the neck of some unseen victim. He has never run so fast in his life to reach the toilet to puke.) He probably shouldn’t feel relieved that someone really gets it, knowing where this understanding stems from, but he does.

“You’re not weak or broken beyond repair, you know. You just have wounds that can’t been seen so they don’t heal because they gotta be found and prioritized in order to take care of the more urgent ones first. But rest assured that you can be mended. The thing is you have to want it.”

And it’s the catch, isn’t it? Because he doesn’t know if he can get better. He doesn’t even know if he wants to. Because what if he starts to believe he can get better and it doesn’t work? What if it gets worse? The list of “what if” has no end ~~just like his issues~~ and he can’t seem to get over it, hope for the best and jump into the unknown.

It’s too much for him.

Because every time he has ever hoped for the best in his life, the worst happened. ( ~~Stevie~~ Steve getting sick every winter—despite his best efforts—when they were living together, ~~Stevie~~ Steve enrolling in the army, Steve becoming Captain America and facing mortal danger all the time, _Tată_ getting an incurable cancer, and even Bucky himself forced to enlist because the war was getting worse and so on...)

“James,” Darcy softly calls him.

Her saying his name—nobody else uses his name anymore, Steve calling him Bucky and the others calling him Barnes or Robokiller (Stark, of course)—is enough to pull him from his thoughts.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to take that first step or even think about it now.” She hesitates before adding with a wry smile, “Anyway, it’s not like your trauma is going anywhere, right?”

It’s a real bad joke and yet, her last sentence gets a ~~poor excuse of a~~ laugh out of him. It sounds strange and it’s clear to anyone listening to it that he hasn’t laughed in quite some time but, surprisingly, it brings a real ~~blinding~~ smile out of Darcy.

He blinks stupidly in reaction to it, like it’s a mirage and it’s gonna disappear at any second.

But he can’t help himself—it’s the first time someone really smiles at him.

Yes, Steve does it often—like when he calls him “punk” or “Stevie”—but it’s not the same. There’s always something bittersweet in the way his best friend looks or smiles at him. Like he’d like to be happy in the moment but can’t quite bring himself to be.

And Bucky knows why.

It’s because Steve always thinks about the man he used to be when he brings up something of the past and, of course, the current version of himself always comes up short compared to his past self, however flawed he was back then.

“Lewis! Just the woman I was looking fo—”

Wilson snaps his mouth shut when he takes notice of Bucky’s presence in the room. His eyes go from Darcy to Bucky before settling on her.

“Everything okay?” Wilson asks, his tone carefully neutral.

Bucky can’t help the surge of anger and the pang of deception he feels at Wilson’s reaction. He knows Wilson doesn’t appreciate him—and frankly, the feeling is mutual—but he didn’t think that he still believed him to be a danger to others. Obviously, he does. It stings, badly.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Darcy retorts, a pointed look in Wilson’s direction.

He almost seems to cower under her gaze.

“I—”

“Can it, Samuel. I don’t wanna hear it,” she interrupts him. “To answer your question, everything was perfectly fine until you barged in here with your suspicion and distrust. Actually, if you wanna know, we were just having a talk. Right, James?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, voice gruff with emotions that boil inside of him.

His uncertainties are rearing their ugly heads. He doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to contain himself and stand here before he proves that Wilson is right and he’s still unstable by storming out of the room like a bat out of hell... or maybe worse.

“James? Could you leave Sam and I alone, please? We need to talk,” she says in a tone brooking no argument.

Wilson is so focused on Darcy and so certain he messed up that he doesn’t see Darcy’s declaration for what it is: a diversion. Bucky can tell from the way her eyes flicker to him from time to time that she’s noticed his turmoil and is giving him a way out.

He’s unexpectedly swarmed with gratitude to this woman who is practically a stranger to him and yet took the time to treat him like a human being and not like a time bomb. He feels like he’s choking on it, and wouldn’t know how to express his thanks.

So he doesn’t waste a second and leaves without a word, but not without a last glance toward Darcy. She winks at him before focusing her attention on Wilson.

The last thing he hears from the room is Darcy tearing Wilson a new one because of the way he automatically assumed that something was wrong because she was alone with Bucky.

The small smile taking form on his face on his way to the elevator feels a little foreign, but not exactly unwelcome.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked this chapter, please leave a comment! But, well, if you don't have the time or just don't know what to write, clicking on the Kudos button will do ;)
> 
> M.


	5. The Solution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi my lovely readers! Here's a new chapter! Sorry for the wait but guess what? It's a long chapter! Hope I'm forgiven ;) But most of all, I hope you'll enjoy your reading :D 
> 
> Once again, many thanks to my beta Blooming Softly <3 (If you catch any mistake or something doesn't make sense, it's my fault. It's probably something I changed after Bloom sent me her edits.) 
> 
> M.

“What’s going on?” Clint asks when he arrives at the conference room.

Steve is there, along with Natasha, Sam, Bucky, Scott and Wanda. In one corner of the table is a holographic display of Tony, Vision, and Rhodey. Steve knows that his expression—and that of the others—betrays the seriousness of the situation. 

Clint’s joviality immediately disappears and a frown takes over his face. 

“His Majesty T’Challa has some problems with Mother Russia, and some other countries I forgot the names of, because of Robokiller.” 

Steve grits his teeth. He knows that Tony can’t forgive Bucky and he’s accepted that. Anybody in his place would have a hard time facing their parents’ killer, whether they were brainwashed or not. But he can’t help the irritation, the anger, he feels every time Tony antagonizes Bucky. Because every time he can see how the guilt overwhelms his best friend—it’s in his eyes, the way they can’t stay more than a few seconds on one person—even if he doesn’t let anything show. And as much the situation isn’t fair to Tony, it isn’t fair to Bucky either. Bucky has suffered enough and he doesn’t deserve to be reminded of what he was forced to do for HYDRA every damn time. 

“Tony...” Natasha says and it sounds like a warning.

“What?” 

“Please let us have one meeting without any of your barbs.” 

“Oh, did I hurt the feelings of my parents’ murderer? How insensitive of me. My most hypocritical apologies.” 

“Tony, you can either stop or we’ll discuss this matter without you.” 

Natasha pauses and takes a long look at Bucky before focusing on Tony again. 

“No one asks you to forgive him or forget. But, for the sake of the team, stop being so hostile to Barnes. Because we can’t afford that. Not when so many governments are still against us, despite the changes in the Accords, and we are under the scrutiny of the media and the public more than ever. We need to present a united front, even if it’s fake... or else they’ll destroy the Avengers Initiative. And you know that can’t happen because the world needs us. Now more than ever, given the number of threats that keeps growing.” 

Tony’s face is unreadable, but he finally nods curtly. Steve can’t help but feel greatly relieved. He’s so tired of feeling torn between protecting and defending Bucky and being understanding of Tony’s pain. 

“Thank you,” Natasha acknowledges quietly, and everyone except Vision, Bucky and Scott, looks at her in different degrees of surprise. 

It’s not often that Natasha Romanov acknowledges that she’s grateful to anyone. 

“Don’t turn it into a big deal,” Tony retorts, clearly annoyed, before continuing, “So? What do we do about the big cat?” 

“Could someone tell me what the news is? Because I still don’t know what’s going on except that T’Challa and Barnes are concerned,” Clint interjects. 

“There’s quite a few countries asking for sanctions against Wakanda because T’Challa harbored—or, more precisely, they think he’s still harboring—a wanted criminal. They don’t know that The Winter Soldier isn’t there anymore,” Natasha explains. 

“Wait. I’m confused. I thought Barnes wasn’t on The Most Wanted list anymore,” Scott says. 

“He was declared innocent in the United States and was consequently removed from the list. Many other countries acknowledged that he was brainwashed and isn’t responsible for the crimes he committed, just like child soldiers aren’t responsible for theirs because they are tortured, drugged and coerced into doing what they do. That’s why he isn’t on Interpol’s radar any longer, either. Yet there are still a few countries who reject the brainwashing explanation because they say it can’t be proved and Barnes is accused of assassinations on their territories, which is why they ask for his extradition.” 

“They’re so full of shit. The chair, the book, the files and all, what is it? There’s evidence of his brainwashing everywhere,” Clint says with barely contained irritation. 

Steve is taken aback by Clint’s defense of Bucky. And then he remembers. He, too, was brainwashed by Loki in the not-so-distant past. If anyone can sympathize with Bucky’s situation, it’s him.

Steve looks at his best friend, then, and notices how hunched in on himself he seems, like he’s trying to make himself as little as possible and disappear. Of course he’d feel like everything that is happening to T’Challa is his fault. No matter that Bucky refused the king’s offer of asylum and Steve was the one who accepted and convinced Bucky to change his mind. Steve feels like his chest is too tight and his heart can’t quite work right.

“I don’t think that they really care about The Winter Soldier. There are other motivations behind their demands for Barnes’ extradition.”

“The Wakanda resources,” Tony says in response to Natasha’s words, comprehension dawning on his face.

“Exactly.”

“I don’t get it,” Wanda says, looking around her to see if she’s the only one in this case.

She isn’t. Steve also has a hard time following where this is going.

“Wakanda is full of natural resources,” Natasha explains. “Vibranium, oil, lithium, you name it. T’Challa’s father controlled Wakanda’s mining and extraction with an iron fist and maintained a low production, despite the global demand for the products in question, because he didn’t want to drain their resources fast. Since the mines were under the government’s control and not private or foreign companies, he could do it. Plus, Wakanda is a small but prosperous country and didn’t have any particular problem that demanded an increase in the government’s budget back then. But that changed with T’Challa’s father’s death and the spotlight that has been put on Wakanda ever since. T’Challa’s succession has been met with apprehension from his people because he’s judged too young and he has a certain reputation of being averse to responsibilities and he made it clear in the past that he wasn’t interested in politics. Add to that the opposition who’s calling for the end of the monarchy and the organization of elections and the terrorist groups from neighboring countries who are now interested in getting ahold of the Wakanda resources, and he’s in for a very big increase in the government’s budget in order to protect the country and prove to the people he can do the job. And to finance all that, guess what T’Challa has to do?”

“Allow more mining and extraction and export more,” Steve answers, grim-faced. 

Everyone else seems to slowly realizes what Steve, Bucky, Vision, Tony and Natasha already understood. The countries asking for Bucky’s extradition probably don’t want Wakanda’s resources to flood the international market because it would end up with big repercussions on their economy. They probably also know that T’Challa promised to keep Bucky safe and that a promise is a sacred thing in the Wakandan culture. Which means he can’t go back on it and won’t tell anyone that Bucky isn’t in Wakanda anymore. If he did so, he would have to reveal where he is or face a media and public backlash if it is proved that Bucky was there and if he says he doesn’t know where he is now. Which means he’ll have to accept the sanctions that will eventually come from the international community and his country will get more and more unstable due the terrorism threat, the opposition and the people.

In other words, T’Challa is in one big mess because of them. No, because of Steve. If only he had found another solution after Siberia...

“Let me guess. The opposition’s leader has a lot of ties to the countries who ask for Robo—Barnes to be sent their way.”

“Exactly. And if the opposition takes power, we’ll probably see the mining and extraction companies of those countries getting ahold of some of Wakanda resources. One way or another, it’s a win-win situation for them,” Natasha says. 

“I’m not T’Challa’s biggest fan but we can’t let him deal with this shit alone,” Sam declares, dead serious. “The guy has done nothing but help us after he realized he was wrong about Barnes.” 

“I’m with Sam. We have to help him,” Wanda adds and Steve looks at her.

She looks upset and rightfully so. Without T’Challa, he wouldn’t have been able to get her and the other Avengers out from the Raft. Without him, she would still be in an electrified straight-jacket, drugged and locked up in a cell. 

“That’s why we’re here. To find a solution,” Natasha tells her. 

“We could say that he’s with us now,” Wanda suggests and the ex-Russian spy shakes her head. 

“It’s impossible. Even though no one would doubt that we can control and monitor him after Steve stopped Barnes two times when he was The Winter Soldier, there’s still the problem of the extradition. We have no government behind us anymore and that means that we no longer have any weight on the international scene. If the countries that want Barnes ask for his extradition, that would put us and the United States in a bad position. Because we’re on their territory and they wouldn’t do it since Barnes is a US citizen and they recently declared him innocent. So not only would we ruin the future of the Avengers Initiative because those countries would call for a boycott of us from their partners, but we could also be the starting point of a war in the near future.” 

Steve chances a glance in Bucky’s direction and notices his best friend’s hands under the table. They are fisted and slightly shaking. Obviously, this discussion is slowly but surely becoming too much for him.

“Buck—” Steve begins but the sound of the door prevents him from saying more. 

He turns his head in that direction, like everyone else, and is surprised to see Darcy standing on the threshold, a cup of coffee in one hand and an iPad in the other. 

“Didn’t know we got a new member in the team. What’s her superpower? Smothering enemies to an heavenly death?” Tony asks with a sarcastic smile and an obscene gesture, showing which part of her body he suggests would smother said enemies. 

“Tony...” Rhodey says, looking fed-up.

Steve is about to put Tony in his place when Darcy beats him to it, placing her cup of coffee on the table. 

“What’s yours? Super misogyny? Or just super assholery?” 

That gets a laugh out of Sam, Scott and Clint and a smirk from Natasha. Steve can’t hold back the smile that comes to his face. 

“Hold on, kid. We don’t even know each other and you’re already insulting me. Do you even know who I am?” 

“Anthony Asshole Stark,” she says matter-of-factly. “And we’ve already met, actually.” 

“Really?” he retorts, looking doubtful. “I don’t think so. I would have remembered those—” 

“Enough, Tony,” Rhodey interrupts him. “We got it.”

Bucky can’t help but lean toward Steve.

“Is he always like that?” 

The annoyance and disgust are unmistakable in Bucky’s tone.

“It’s Tony,” is Steve’s answer, which means everything and nothing at all.

“Ah, I almost forgot. FRIDAY?” Darcy suddenly exclaims. “Can you send the pre-filled sexual harassment form to Mr Asshole right here?” 

“Already done, Miss Lewis.” 

“You’re a peach,” Darcy tells her but she addresses a wink to Steve when she pronounces those words.  

He can’t help but slightly flush when he remembers her “Captain Peach” anecdote. The little smile that appears briefly on her lips lets him know that she didn’t miss his apparent embarrassment. 

Just like Natasha hasn’t, too, given the way her eyes slightly narrows when his gaze meets hers. He’s on for seeing the reappearance of Natasha The Matchmaker soon, he just knows it. 

“It’s always a pleasure to assist you, Miss Lewis.” 

“Wait, wait, wait... _What?_ What’s going on here? What did you do to FRIDAY?” Tony asks, dumbfounded. 

“Nothing except treating her like she’s someone and not a dumb, unfeeling machine.” 

“I don’t treat her like a—”

Rhodey discreetly coughs to cut him off. Tony throws an annoyed look in his direction. 

“Okay, okay. I might have treated her like that one or two times... but it’s just because she’s not as good as JARVIS!” 

“And whose fault is that?” Darcy says before rolling her eyes. “Anyway, I didn’t come here to discuss FRIDAY or get some money from Stark—by the way, send the sum due to the women's shelters in New York, they need your money more than I do. I came here because FRIDAY told me about your little problem and I think I can help.” 

“What?” Steve says as Rhodey asks Tony, “How is it possible that FRIDAY discloses top-secret information to anyone?” 

“Good question. FRIDAY?” 

“Thanks to his Majesty Thor of Asgard, Miss Lewis has a level clearance similar to that of the members of the Avengers Initiative.” 

“Good answer,” Tony says, deadpan.

“Can we get back on the part where she tells us she can help us?” Scott demands. 

“Yeah, I’d like to more about that, too. What’s your idea, Lewis?” Sam asks, intrigued. 

“Like I said, I think I have a solution to your problem. And that solution involves Thor... and I.” 

“Putting aside the fact that Thor is off-planet and unreachable for the foreseeable future, how could _you_ help us?” 

“Tony...” Steve starts, really annoyed on Darcy’s behalf now because she doesn’t deserve Tony’s disdain. 

“FRIDAY? Send him the other pre-filled form,” Darcy demands.

“Done, Miss Lewis.” 

“Thanks.” 

“You know what?” Tony intervenes. “Forget the forms. I can sense we’ll clash often so how about FRIDAY transfers a certain amount of money to your bank account every time I’m out of line with you? We’ll fix a sum together and you’ll decide which charities and associations you want to donate to.” 

Darcy looks thoughtful during a moment, her gaze never leaving the holographic display of Tony. 

“Why not just do it from your own initiative?” 

“I’m Anthony Asshole Stark, remember? I have a reputation to maintain. I’m philanthropic but not _too_ philanthropic.” 

She huffs a laugh and rolls her eyes.

“So? Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Great. Now Boobs,” a concert of groans and exclamations arises, “tell us about your master plan.” 

“Okay, yeah... So, Thor. He’s an alien, and a god at that, and I think we can all agree on the fact that there’s probably no government that wants to be on his bad side and, consequently, that of Asgard. Well, that’s where I come in. Back when it was just Thor, Jane, Erik and I in Mad Max’s Wasteland, I might not have believed Thor’s stories about Asgard and all right away. But because the big guy was nice and entertaining, I let him tell me about himself and his planet. Then I started to notice the men in black around town. I mean, come on, who except the government would come in the middle of desert with black suits? That’s when I started to believe Thor’s crazy stories. Because I was afraid of what was going to happen, I told myself that an assurance and proof of what happened to us wouldn’t hurt if Agent J and Agent K came barging in and disappeared us so I asked Thor to do a video and a letter. He explains in them who he is and declares that he puts me, Jane, Erik and any of our loved ones under the protection of Asgard. Both of those are safely hidden somewhere and they’re programmed to be sent if I don’t cancel the planned delivery by the end of the countdown.” 

“That’s a great story and all, but—” 

Tony stops talking and snaps his mouth shut. A smile crawls slowly across his face. 

“Double D, you’re a genius.”

“Thanks for the compliment—even though I already knew that—and for the 25K you just relieved yourself of.” 

“You’re welcome.”

“I hate to say it but Tony’s right,” Natasha admits before adding sternly in Tony’s direction, “Not a word.” 

“I didn’t say anything!” he complains, hands up in the air in a dramatic gesture. 

“But you were about to.”

Steve thinks he knows where Darcy is going with this, but he has a hard time believing anything happening right now is real. 

“Why?” Steve blurts out and he realizes too late that he said it out loud.

“Why not?” she retorts, shrugging.

“Because you don’t know me. I mean nothing to you. Why would you tell the world that I’m important to you and that you place me under Thor’s protection?” Bucky wonders, speaking for the first time.

A long look passes between Darcy and Bucky. Then, suddenly, she gives Steve a side look and sighs.

“Okay, you wanna know my reasons, James? Here they are. I don’t know you yet but I can feel we’ll get along just fine, given the time. And after everything you’ve gone through, I think you deserve to finally be left the hell alone. Fuck those governments. They didn’t do anything for you during your seventy plus years of captivity, yet some of them may have had an idea of who you were, that is to say a man who was instrumental in the victory of the Allies during WWII. And let’s not even talk about the US—who let you down when you went missing and didn’t look for your body. That aside, Steve is also my friend and I know how much he cares about you and he, too, went through a lot so I don’t want him to have to face another trial if I can avoid it. And there’s also lives at stake here—T’Challa, his people—so if I can help, I goddamn will.”

Sam reclines in his chair as he laughs a little before shaking his head.

“And here I thought that Steve was the very definition of selflessness. Man, you got nothing on Lewis.”

“Seriously, if you ever retire Cap, you’ve found someone who can take up the mantel,” Scott adds, smiling.

Darcy blushes. Steve doesn’t remember ever seeing her flush, even when she says or hears the crudest things. Seems like she’s like him in this respect. Can’t take a compliment without turning a bright shade of red.

“She’ll look hotter for sure,” Tony comments.

“Mmmh... I beg to differ. My chest will maybe look better but I don’t think there’s any ass in this galaxy that could look as good as his in the suit.”

This time, it’s Steve’s turn to blush at Darcy’s off-hand comment. But he quickly forgets his discomfort when he hears the sound coming from the place next to him.

Bucky is laughing.

And not the mockery of a laugh that he lets out sometimes, but a sincere, spontaneous, real one.

Steve can hardly believe it. He thought he’d never hear Bucky laugh like that again.

“That’s settled, then. I’ll ask our PR manager to come up with a declaration. Boobs, if you could—”

“Actually, before anything else,” Darcy says, interrupting Tony, “I’d like to know if James is alright with this plan and if so, if he’d like to get a look at the statement before it goes public.”

Everyone turns to look at Bucky. He doesn’t fidget because he’s been trained to endure worse than having the eyes of all the Avengers on him but Steve knows he’s anything but comfortable with the attention.

“I—Yeah.”

“It’s a yes about the plan or the statement?” Darcy asks him, uncertainty written on her face. “We’re talking about your life so you have a say in the matter.”

“Both,” he finally lets out, his voice gruff.

“It’s settled, then,” Tony declares. “Oh, and Double D? You and I got to have a talk soon. I want to know how you really got FRIDAY wrapped around your finger, among other things.”

“I already told you how. And I don’t know what other things we could talk about.”

“You’re not fooling me, kiddo. There’s more to you that meets the eye. I can tell you have some interesting secrets and I want to know all about them.”

“Whatever. See you later, guys,” Darcy retorts nonchalantly, leaving the room.

Steve wonders what Tony means by that and finds himself wanting to know more about Darcy, too. He’s torn from his thoughts by the sudden departure of Bucky. His best friend is already out of the room by the time Steve has stood up. When he reaches the hallway, he discovers Bucky and Darcy in the middle of a talk. As usual, his ears keep him from missing a thing in a conversation he isn’t supposed to hear. 

“... for me.”

“James,” Darcy says with a kind smile. “Like I said earlier, I didn’t do it just for you. But even if there wasn’t any other reason except helping you, I would have done it. Because whether you believe it or not, you’re worth it.”

“How can you say that when you don’t know me?” Bucky says, his frustration and irritation crystal-clear.

“Again with that damn question,” Darcy complains, rolling her eyes. “The answer is simple. It’s because I heard about you wanting to go back to that fucking freezer because you thought you were a danger to others as long as the trigger-words still worked on you. And you know what? I know for a fact that no one except a good person would be willing to do such a thing, especially when the cold is probably something that terrifies them. And if it’s not enough proof in your eyes, there’s also the fact that you’re helping destroy HYDRA, even though they represent your biggest fear and almost anyone in your place would have just said ‘Fuck it. I’m done fighting.’”

“I—”

“Don’t bother to try to come up with counterarguments, you won’t find any. You’re someone good, James. You’ll see, one day, you’ll come to separate yourself from what HYDRA made you do and accept that fact for the truth that it is.” 

Steve’s head is spinning. There are so many emotions inside him at the moment. Gratitude toward Darcy and the way she always says what she thinks, whether people want to hear her piece of mind or not, hope that Darcy’s words will find resonance in Bucky because his never have, fear that Bucky won’t believe what she said because he isn’t ready to get better or just can’t. 

But those are not the only feelings in Steve. It’s hard to admit it, even to himself, but he’s jealous, too, and he immediately feels bad for it because Darcy has been nothing but wonderful to him and now to Bucky.

But it can’t be helped. Because Darcy is the one who found the solution to protect Bucky from the governments that are after him when Steve is the one who caused this mess in the first place by accepting T’Challa’s offer. Not only that but it looks like she’s able to get through Bucky’s thick armor of denial and guilt with her candor when Steve can’t even have a real discussion with Bucky without Bucky clamming up or fleeing the room sooner or later. 

It’s like Steve doesn’t bring anything but problems and pain to Bucky whenever Bucky has always been the only person Steve ever needed to be okay.

“Can I hug you?”

“I—What?” Bucky asks, his voice faltering at the end.

“Consent and safety are important to me, that’s why I’m asking you if I can hug you. That way, you can tell me if you don’t want to be hugged and there’s no risk of you being taken by surprise because I hugged you without notice and having an instinctive response or something.”

Steve can tell his best friend is overwhelmed by her answer—or maybe it’s the whole day that is finally catching up to him—because his eyes catch this wild look like he’s trapped and looking for an escape route.

“Hey,” Darcy tells Bucky in a low and soft voice. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. You don’t have to feel like you owe me anything because of what I did. Because you sure as hell don’t. Okay?”

Bucky nods, but the gesture is small and uncertain.

“See you later, okay?”

Bucky nods again. Darcy turns around, ready to leave when Steve’s best friend suddenly takes a step in her direction. Bucky immediately looks surprised, like he didn’t intend to do it and his body acted on its own accord.

“Darcy?”

She makes an about-turn, her eyebrows raised in question.

“Yeah?”

“I—”

But no words come. With a huff of frustration, Bucky tentatively reaches out toward her with his right hand. Darcy smiles and offers him her hand, palm upward, letting him close the gap between them. After a moment of hesitation, he finally does it, taking her hand in his.

Objectively, Steve knows that it’s a beautiful gesture of gratitude and incredible progress on Bucky’s part to be able to act like that with someone he barely knows, but all Steve can think about right now is that Bucky hasn’t initiated any contact between them since before the war.

And it hurts. It hurts so bad.

Unable to stand it anymore and hit with a sudden urge to destroy as many punching bags as possible, Steve spins around and quickly leaves the other way. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked this chapter, please leave a comment! But, well, if you don't have the time or just don't know what to write, clicking on the Kudos button will do ;)
> 
> M.


	6. The Vow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm sorry for not posting anything for so long but life and work got in the way. You know how it is. But now that things are calmer, I'm back with a new chapter. I'll try to post another chapter soon but I can't promise you anything because I write books in two languages for a living and I have a busy publication schedule in the coming months so that has to come first. 
> 
> Anyway, this chapter isn't betaed and, as you already know, English isn't my first language so if you spot a glaring mistake or a sentence that absolutely doesn't make sense, let me know. Thank you! :) 
> 
> Happy reading!

“I need your help,” Darcy declares when Natasha finally opens her door—the door to her apartment that she doesn’t allow FRIDAY to control or monitor because the spy never trusts anybody, especially not an AI after the Ultron fiasco.

The redhead got no reaction to her words but steps aside to let her come in. Darcy goes to the sofa and sits on it, waiting on Natasha to join her. But the redhead remains standing near the kitchen island, her face a mask of cold detachment.

Anybody else would think that the spy doesn’t care at all about Darcy and her petty problems but Darcy knows better. She knows that Natasha cares because if she didn’t, she wouldn’t even have opened her door. Natasha might not be the touchy-feely type or the share-her-feelings type but she’s the type to let someone know how much she cares by her actions, seemingly benign most of the time but truly meaningful whey they come from someone with her past.

“It’s Steve,” Darcy explains, knowing that Natasha won’t be the one to break the silence.

Doing it would betray her curiosity, and if there's one person on Earth who loves their aura of mystery, it's clearly Natasha Romanov.  The redhead merely raises an eyebrow in reaction. It could be interpreted as disdain but it’s actually her silent way to say “Go on. I’m all ears.” Darcy is smiling inwardly. She’s pretty sure Natasha loves her, even if she’ll probably never say it out loud.

“I think he’s avoiding me.”

“Why would he do that?” Natasha asks and she shows no skepticism or surprise.

She’s simply trying to make Darcy think about the reasons behind his avoidance without influencing her. The thing is Darcy has no idea and that’s precisely why she came to see Natasha.

“I don’t know!” she says, throwing her arms in the air in an exasperated gesture. “If I did, I wouldn’t be here asking for your help.”

“You don’t need my help. You just need someone to make you put your emotions aside and think clearly and logically.”

“You know why he’s acting like that, don’t you?” Darcy tells her, suspicious.

Natasha doesn’t answer and nothing changes in her face but Darcy knows she’s right. The spy is always aware of everything before anyone else. Darcy sighs.

“Throw me a bone here. I really haven’t the slightest clue about why Steve's acting the way he is.”

Natasha remains silent a long moment.

“When was the last time you two talked?”

“The team meeting... I think?” Darcy answers her, hesitation in her voice.

“Almost two weeks, then. Do you talk to each other often usually?”

“Well, usually no but recently, yeah. I feel like we were getting closer... but maybe I’m wrong,” the civilian says and the uncertainty and the hurt are evident in her words.

Natasha narrows her eyes, her face becoming harder.

“You’re not.”

“How can you know?”

Again, she just raises an eyebrow like the answer is evident. And it is to her. She  _always_ knows.

“What’s going on with Steve? I just don’t get it...”

The redhead observes her with an intense scrutiny. She must read something on Darcy’s face that makes her change her mind because her expression softens imperceptibly.

“Barnes,” Natasha says.

“James? What does he have to do with anything?” Darcy asks her before she realizes the stupidity of her question.

They’re talking about Steve here. James always has to do with everything.

“So it’s about me and James,” the young woman surmises.

She thinks about it, searches in her memory for something. She doesn’t find any explanation.

“I still don’t get it...”

If Natasha would have been anyone else but the woman who’s always in control that she is, she probably would have sighed out loud.

“What happened after the meeting?”

First, there’s incomprehension, then it dawns on Darcy.

“I talked with James.”

“Not just talked,” Natasha rectifies and Darcy frowns, not understanding what she’s getting at.

“Wh—?”

“What did Barnes do when you were about to leave?”

It takes a few long seconds for Darcy to remember but then, she recalls the brief physical contact James and her had.

“Are you kidding me? You’re telling me that Steve is mad at me because James and I _held hands_?”

“You’re not getting it. Barnes initiated physical contact with you. I’m positive it never happened before. Given Steve’s reaction, I’m sure it didn’t even happen once when they were alone.”

The ex-intern stares at Natasha with wide eyes, comprehension dawning on her. Panic overwhelms her.

“I-I never wanted to hurt Steve! I—”

“Calm down,” Natasha tells her gently. “You did nothing wrong. You couldn’t know that Steve and Barnes’ relationship was that complicated. It’s between them and on them, not on you. All you can do now is make Steve listen to you so you can tell him exactly that.”

“And how do I do that? For a guy so big and tall, he’s surprisingly gifted at making himself disappear. I didn’t even catch sight of his shadow in days,” Darcy says, her frustration over the situation evident.

The spy is silent for a long moment before she finally says, a barely-there smirk on her lips: “Don’t worry, I got it.”

 

***

 

Darcy doesn’t know what she expected when Natasha told her that she would do something about Steve’s avoidance but it isn’t that. But really, she should have seen it coming. It’s Natasha Romanov after all. She doesn’t do anything like the others.

“Seems like we’re stuck together,” Darcy says, a note of bitterness in her tone that she can’t hold back, after Steve’s umpteenth try to open—more like smash open with his fists—the door of the common room.

In any other circumstances, the scene would have been funny. But it’s not. It’s really not. Because Steve’s behavior makes it abundantly clear that he wants to be anywhere but in the same place as her. And it stings because she didn’t do anything that deserves such a strong reaction from him.

Steve turns toward her, a frown on his face, but remains silent.

“Think you’ll be able to stand the sight of me for a little while?” she adds and she tries to infuse her words with humor but it doesn't work.

Because she’s mad at him now. She wasn’t before—or maybe she was but she refused to acknowledge it—but she is now.

“Why are you saying that?” he asks her and it’s amazing how sincerely lost he sounds.

She didn’t know he was an actor, and such a good one at that, but he must be because there’s no way he doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

“You’re asking _me_? I should be asking you because I have no fucking clue! I just know that, suddenly, every time you see me you flee like I’m the devil incarnate.”

“I don’t—” Steve begins.

“No,” she interrupts him abruptly, her tone stern. “Don’t tell me you’re not doing exactly that because you’re not a liar, Steve, so don’t start being one now.”

He gulps hard before he looks down, his gaze remaining fixed on the ground. The silence stretches between them until Darcy can’t bear it anymore.

“Why?” she asks him and she hates herself in that very moment, hates that her voice sounds so small like that of a little child who's confused and hurt.

Steve looks up suddenly at her question, his eyes wide. It’s like he’s only realizing now that what he did affected her.

“I... I’m sorry. So sorry. I didn’t—I never wanted to—It’s just—”

He sighs, obviously frustrated with himself and his inability to express what he wants to tell her. He takes a few moments to gather his thoughts before trying again.

“I wasn’t avoiding you because I didn’t want to see you. It’s just that... I was ashamed. Ashamed of myself.”

Darcy stares at him, expecting him to say many things but not that.

“Why?”

“Because I saw you and Bucky together after the team briefing and... I don’t know... I was...”

“Jealous?” she suggests when he doesn’t go on after a moment.

He appears briefly surprised that she got what he was trying to explain before looking oh so guilty.

“Yes.”

And he really doesn’t seem proud of himself when he admits that. Darcy’s anger deflates like a balloon at his confession. She can’t stay mad at him when he obviously feels so bad about his behavior. Anyway she's never been one to hold grudge for long—except for SHIELD and the theft of her iPod but that's a whole other story.

“You have nothing to be jealous of, Steve. You know that, right?”

As she talks she walks toward him, unable to help herself because she can see that he's hurting and she wants so bad to make it better.

Steve blinks repeatedly like he's trying hard to hold back tears.

“I know,” he answers her, trying to smile at her but it ends up looking like a sad grimace.

She feels the tears coming up in her eyes, too, because that man in front of her has done nothing but good in his life and deserves all the happiness in the world and yet, he gets none. And it’s not right. It’s not fucking fair.

“A hug?” she can't help but say, opening her arms to him in an invitation.

He lets out a chuckle, a wet and broken sound.

“God, yes…” he says in a breath, as if he's been waiting, no hoping for that.

This time, he's the one reducing the distance between them and closing his arms around her. He holds her like she's the only thing that can keep him upright. She hugs him as tightly as she can against her.

After some time, she breaks their embrace to delicately cradle his face between her hands, forcing him to look her in the eye. His eyes are a little red and there's a few tear tracks on his cheeks. Her heart becomes a little too tight in her chest at the sight.

“James needs to find himself before he can find his way to you but don't you doubt, even for one second, that he won't. Because he will. If I'm certain of just one thing, it's this.”

Steve exhales loudly, like he's been holding his breath for an eternity. The look of relief on his face and the hope in his eyes at that very moment is a wonderful sight to Darcy.

“Thank you,” he tells her.

He puts his hands upon hers and squeezes them a little before letting go and stepping away from her. He looks away suddenly but not before she sees the embarrassment on his features.

“I...” He trails off and huffs, shaking his head. “I don't know how I survived this long without you and your hugs,” he finally says lightly, still not watching her, but there's some seriousness behind his joking tone.

She contemplates him without saying a word for a moment. She can tell he can't—or don't want to—meet her gaze and she would bet her iPod, her most precious possession, that it's because he's uncomfortable and feels like he's weak or something because it's the second time he broke down in front of her.

It’s not surprising that he acts this way given his past and the fact he comes from the early  20 st century. Society back then must have ingrained in him that a man is nothing but strong and unflappable; he probably heard countless times that he wasn't a man because he was skinny and sick for more than twenty years. Not that his time in the  21 st  must have taught him otherwise, what with the toxic masculinity in every fucking media and damn SHIELD throwing him back into the fray as soon as he's unfrozen instead of sending him to a therapist, then the Avengers and the examples all around him like Fury or Tony who act like emotions are a thing that don't exist if you don't acknowledge them. And let's not forget he's Captain America. Frigga forbid he be anything but solid like a rock all the damn time.

“Know that me and my hugs are always available to you. Any hour or day.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” she interrupts him, her tone brooking no argument.

He stares at her during some long seconds before giving her a nod.

“Now, Captain Peach, would you like to watch a movie with me?” she asks him, sensing it's high time to stop with the serious talks.

A ghost of a grin appears on his face at her nickname for him.

“Yeah, I'd really like that.”

His answer put a big smile on her face.

“Good,” she says before asking Stark's AI,“FRIDAY? Can you put the TV on, please?”

“Of course, Miss Lewis.”

What appears on the screen then makes the blood in her veins turn cold. She chances a look at Steve but his eyes are riveted on the picture, which is the Netflix movie page—with the fucking poster, description and all—of that shitty movie about his best friend's womanizer days. She almost wants to blame Stark but she has the feeling that if it was him, he would have made sure that it happens to James, not to Steve... though he probably didn't forgive the good Captain for the lie about his parents' murder.

No, it must be Natasha's doing. She's the only one who knows Darcy enough to guess she would suggest watching a movie because that's how she works: a fight equal a movie or TV show. Like everything could be back to the way it was after seeing fictional characters dealing with problems much more bigger than theirs—okay, Steve's or James' (or any Avenger's really) problems will always be bigger than any fictional character's ones.

Now, the question is: why has the redhead done that? She doesn't know... but she plans on having a little talk with her as soon as Steve and her go their separate ways. Because help from Natasha, her friend, is welcome but plans and manipulation from Natalia, the spy, is not, even if both come from a desire to help a friend.

“I—”

“Can we watch it?” Steve asks.

Darcy doesn't know how to react at first because she's pretty certain that Steve getting lost in how James was—though the movie is probably far from having captured his personality—is not a good thing. Finally, she decides to voice her doubts.

“You sure?”

He can probably guess what she doesn't say. “Don't lose yourself in the past. It's dangerous. Don't you see? It can make you jeopardize the fragile progress you made with James.”

“Yes.”

She closes her eyes briefly. She hoped against hope that he would say no but it was evident he couldn't resist the siren call of the past.

“FRIDAY,” Darcy says, opening her eyes, and the AI doesn't need her to tell her what she needs to do.

The movie begins as Steve and Darcy settle on one of the big sofas of the common room. The main lead is as she remembers, not hard on the eye and charming in his own way if a terrible actor, but now that she knows the original James Buchanan Barnes, he just doesn't hold a candle to him. And well, she's watching the movie with Steve. It's hard to find a guy attractive when Steve Rogers, an Adonis if she ever saw one, is sitting next to you. Still, the movie in itself is really even more of a cinematographic disaster than she recalled. The decors look like something out of a cheap soap opera, the streets are nothing like those of that era (and she knows a thing or two about that era, thanks to her and her girls obsession with Captain America, Peggy Carter and the Howling Commandos), the actors don't even try to be in character—for fuck sake, the girl playing Rebecca Barnes is supposed to be a Brooklyn girl, born and raised, and yet she talks like a Southern girl—and according to the script, James slept with all the women in New York from age sixteen to fifty; she's not kidding, she stopped counting when the lead kissed a different girl for the eleventh time in less than forty-five minutes. Seriously, who in Hollywood puts money in that kind of productions? Men, that's for sure. Not only that but James didn't deserve to be resumed to his sexuality—and the same goes for the girls he dated. Now or back then, he's much more than just a charmer.

She kinda feels bad to have ever watched such a shitty movie. Her teenage self really had poor movie taste.

She does feel ashamed and guilty for good when she hears a sound behind her and turns around to know what's happening. It's James. James who looks pale and like he's seen a ghost.

Oh Frigga, how long has he been here, silently watching this? Dread pools in Darcy's stomach.

“FRIDAY,” Darcy says and the AI pauses the movie.

“Buck...” Steve starts, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar and horrified all at once.

Darcy has a feeling that Steve won't find the right words to diffuse the situation so she takes the matter into her own hands, even though she doesn't really know what to do. No way she will let a stupid movie damage to James or to Steve and James' relationship.

“Hey James. Wanna join us?”

His face now is carefully blank, hiding anything he might be feeling at the moment. It's like he's protecting himself because he thinks he can't trust the people he's with. Darcy's heart feels suddenly constricted in her chest.

“It's... It's about me, isn't it?”

She takes a deep breath, takes a minute to think carefully about her next words.

“The summary says so... but I have a hard time believing that. No way a great guy like you was such an ass in the past.”

Gone is the emotionless mask. James now looks at her like she's grown two heads. She can easily guess why. It must be unthinkable for him to hear someone call him great now, after what he's done—was forced to do, Darcy rectifies automatically in her head—for HYDRA, and criticize the old James that Steve and anyone else thinks of as a war hero and all-around perfect guy. But it needs to be done. His old self was probably awesome, despite his flaws, but it doesn't mean that his actual self isn't despite his horrible past.

“Seriously, you can't have been that bad. I mean, “pretty legs you got there. Would look even prettier around my waist”. That's a terrible line if I ever heard one.”

A faint blush appears on James' cheeks and Darcy squints her eyes, staring hard at him.

“No... Please, _please_ , tell me you never said that,” she says, her tone exaggeratedly dramatic.

“I...”

“Actually, he said worse,” Steve chimes in with the tiniest smile she's ever seen on someone's face.

She casts a quick grateful glance in his direction. He finally decided to help her out with this more than delicate situation. About damn time. But better late than never, they say.

“Worse?” Darcy asks, looking briefly at James before watching Steve again. “Can't imagine how there could be worse. What? He said to a girl that her mouth was pretty but it would look prettier around his dick?”

Steve chokes on air at her last word.

“I— _What?_ I would never—” James sputters.

“He probably thought it a lot but never said it out loud,” Steve retorts, even though he still looks slightly flushed.

“Shut your fucking mouth, punk!” James retorts with murder in his eyes.

Darcy starts laughing and just can't stop because they are adorable and their bickering, too. Steve smirks and James even have a barely-there smile when she finally stops because she's breathless and her stomach is hurting.

“It's a chance you're so fucking good-looking because you'd still be a virgin today, otherwise.”

“Are you insinuating that Bucky Barnes wasn't a charmer?” James asks her with a mock glare.

She can't help but be surprised at the way he seems to dissociate himself from what he associates with Forties James, even if she knows James has a long way to go before he can accept that all those past versions of himself are one and the same and not lost but still here, deep inside him.

“I'm not insinuating, I'm telling you. The panty-dropping smile is clearly the only thing that got you laid,” she jokes because, obviously, bad pick up lines or not (and frankly, the ones she suggested are far from the worst she heard), everything inside and outside that man is attractive.

Steve chuckles and James ducks his head, his hair hiding his face. Because he's embarrassed or he's not used to women talking so freely about sex, she doesn't know.

“So? Wanna join us or not?”

James seems to hesitate as he looks at the screen. Darcy can easily guess that he's afraid it will trigger unwanted memories or something like that.

“I swear it's mostly a pseudo-romantic story with barely a thing or two that are accurate.”

“And she knows what she's talking about, she studied us,” Steve said and the asshole dares to wink at her when she turns toward him to glare at him.

“Really?” James questions her, looking dumbfounded like he can't fathom why someone would have any interest in him.

“Well, I said it before, you, just like Cap and the Howling Commandos and everyone else in your unit, were instrumental to the Allies victory during WWII so of course, people study you in school.”

Steve coughs slightly, poorly hiding his amusement, and Darcy shoots daggers at him. She knows that he thinks about what she told him about her teenage obsession with everything regarding Captain America and his team. But no way she's gonna tell about James about the Bananas Commandos right now. He's totally not ready for it. Especially if the word “dick” coming out her mouth makes him awkward and unable to meet anyone's eyes.

Since Steve seems so eager to throw her under the bus, well, she doesn't see why she should abstain from doing the same. Two can play this game, right? She smirks at him, making him frown in incomprehension, before looking at James.

“You know what? I'll tell you all about what we can learn about you and Steve in school later but why don't we finish this movie and then watch one about Steve first?”

She can feel Steve become rigid beside her.

“There's one about him?”

“Dude, you have no idea how many movies, TV shows, books and songs there are about our dear old Steve. And the one I plan on us watching today is just a pure masterpiece.”

Steve groans.

“It's the one Tony wanted us to watch as a “team bonding exercise”, right?” Steve asks, already knowing the answer.

She glances at him and just smiles sweetly. He groans louder.

“You know, Tony had a good idea there. If Captain America in tights succeeded in uniting America back then, I don't see why watching all the USO tour couldn't unite the Avengers now.”

Okay, it wasn't about uniting America but more about propaganda and selling war bonds but it doesn't matter right here. All that matters is bringing back a little joy in James Barnes' life and she has a feeling it will do exactly that. And if, by the way, she has her little revenge on Steve, well, it's the cherry on the cake.

“There's footage of him in tights? After all this time?”

The beginning of a smile is forming on his lips and Darcy just can't resist the want to turn it into a real and happy smile.

“There are like hours, even days of him in tights.”

“Can we watch that now?” James asks and there it is, that smile. “I've always wanted to see him in tights but the punk has always stopped me and the Howlies from getting our hands on one of the reels.”

For the first time since she knows him, he looks... young and unburdened. It's as if his terrible past stopped weighing on him suddenly. Of course, she knows that sooner or later the shadows in his eyes and the alertness and wariness will be back but she wants to make that moment of lightheartedness last as long as possible.

“Why, yes, of course, James.”

James laughs and it's such a beautiful, joyous and contagious sound that she can't help but imitate him.

And that's at this very moment, when James' laugh is still ringing in the air and Steve mouths a discrete thank you to her, that Darcy Lewis vows to make everything in her power to help those two men find some happiness in their complicated lives.

 


	7. The Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait but here's a long chapter to apologize. Forgiven? :) 
> 
> Also, this chapter hasn't been betaed because I didn't want to make you wait any longer. Sorry if there's any mistake or weird phrasing.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> M.

“Well, it could have gone worse,” Natasha comments in an emotionless tone.

“I really don't see how,” Steve retorts, his eyes on the silhouette of Tony walking away until the closing door doesn't allow to see him anymore.

“You could have gotten a metal fist or a repulsor beam in the face,” she answers matter-of-factly.

Steve sighs and takes his face in his hands. First Bucky, then Tony—who's come to the Facility for the first time since Steve and the others got back here and himself, Vision and Rhodey left for Stark Tower—have stormed out of the room. Why? Because Steve just told them that they wouldn't come on their very secret mission in Ukraine because they're too emotionally compromised to get more involved in this.

Only Natasha, himself, Bucky and Tony know about the mission because it isn't an Avenger matter but a personal matter. Also, they all agreed to not involve the others in this mess because they know they would want to help and they also don't want them to suffer the consequences if it goes wrong. The mission is about a retired HYDRA higher up who's hiding in the country under a fake name after HYDRA's fall and is linked to Howard and Maria's assassination order. Natasha has finally found his location after months and months of search.

The ex-spy has been focused on finding every person who has a link with the Winter Soldier since the Avengers have gotten back together. When Steve asked her why she kept looking after she'd found out the location of HYDRA's trigger words book, she only said that there was a possibility that they had another way of triggering Bucky and she wouldn't stop looking until she found every HYDRA man and document related to the Winter Soldier program because another incident involving Bucky would destroy the Avengers Initiative.

Steve knows her answer back then wasn't the complete truth. Oh, he's sure she wants to find everything about the program and the people linked to it. But not just because of the Avengers. Because Bucky and her might never speak to each other but there are some things that don't lie. Like the way Bucky sometimes focuses on Natasha and gets lost in thoughts. The way Natasha carefully avoids to be in the same room as Bucky except when she can't like during briefings or team dinners, too. Or the way her gaze sometimes softens imperceptibly when she looks at Bucky before a blank expression falls across her face a few seconds later.

Steve has no idea what happened between them during their Red Room time but he knows that it wasn't just training.

Surprisingly, if he's been jealous when Bucky and Darcy got close—and how he wishes he hadn't been because Darcy clearly wasn't trying to take Bucky away from him and really wanted him to be with Bucky—he doesn't feel anything when it comes to Natasha and Bucky. Maybe because he can see that Bucky doesn't feel anything except caution around Natasha now...

“Earth to Steve,” Natasha says and Steve is suddenly brought back to reality.

He looks at her and sees the smirk on her face.

“What?”

“You kind of zoned out. Let me guess... You were thinking about Barnes.”

A blush spreads from his face to his chest because there's no doubt about what she means by that and she's not asking, she's saying that like she's stating a fact. He thought that Darcy was the only one who'd discovered the extent of his feelings for Bucky but, obviously, Natasha did, too. He doesn't know how he feels about that.

“I—”

“Steve,” she says kindly, her smile small but real and soft like that time they seriously talked at Sam's house after they'd learned about Zola and Project Insight and he told her he would trust her with his life now. For the first time since Peggy's funeral, he's facing Natasha, his friend, and not the Black Widow, his fellow Avenger. “It's okay. Your secret is safe with me... though I hope it won't remain a secret very long because you deserve to be happy.”

He's overwhelmed by what she just said because he can feel her sincerity. She truly wants him—and thinks he deserves—to be happy. To hear that is both comforting and disturbing for him who's always doubting happiness is for him because he failed so many people—Bucky, Peggy, Tony, the Avengers and so many more—and it's seem only fair for him to not get what he wants or needs because of that.

“You're not offering your matchmaking services this time?” he asks with humor, trying to diffuse the seriousness of the moment.

“You don't need me. You got Darcy,” she says and she probably doesn't know it but her eyes shine with warmth and affection for said girl.

Steve is taken aback. He was aware that Natasha and Darcy knew each other but he didn't realize they were so close. Because they are, it's evident given Natasha's reaction. If he were to bet, he'd say Darcy is even closer to Natasha than he is because he doubts that anyone mentioning him elicits this kind of reactions from her. But somewhat knowing that isn't as incredible one would think in spite of Natasha's background and trust issues and Darcy's somewhat normal life in comparison. Darcy is a people person and she's far more clever than what she lets on.

It suddenly dawns on him when he really thinks about it that everyone around the Facility has been lighter and happier since Darcy's arrival months ago. Who would have thought that Darcy Lewis coming here would be the best thing that could happen to the Avengers, huh?

“And now you're thinking about Darcy.”

He stares at her, surprised. Once again, it's an affirmation, not a question.

“How do you...”

But he can't bring himself to ask her, suddenly feeling awkward for no reason.

“How do I know? Your smile,” she answers him with one of her own.

It's only now that Steve realizes he's indeed smiling. A crooked grin like the ones you absentmindedly make when thinking about someone or something you care deeply about.

Knocks on the door prevent him from wondering about what it means.

“Come in,” Natasha says and, just like that, the Black Widow is back.

But not for long because the door slides to reveal Darcy who's frowning and looks troubled.

“What's going on?” Steve asks her, immediately standing up and approaching her, just like Natasha.

“Sorry. I didn't know you were having a brief—”

“It's okay. The briefing was over,” Natasha interrupts her, waving aside her concerns. “What's happening, Darcyotchka?”

Looking unusually shy, Darcy looks down.

“I—It's just that I saw James and he looked upset and just told me “Steve” before storming off when I asked him what was wrong, and then I saw Stark and—well, I just wanted to see Steve to see if everything was okay...”

By the end of her explanation, Darcy still isn't watching any of them. Steve is standing frozen, barely breathing, because he doesn't know to react at such a display of care and affection. How long since someone chased after him to know if he's okay after just a simple dispute? Because Darcy knows it can't be that bad or Bucky wouldn't have left him. Sure, Natasha has been there for him when it came to Bucky or Peggy but it was because the situation has been serious and terrible back then.

“I'm gonna go,” Natasha tells them, a mysterious smile playing on her lips, before leaving.

The door closes on Natasha's silhouette but the silence remains and is getting more and more heavier.

“Darcyotchka?” Steve says, blurting out the first thing that comes to his mind because he can't bear the tension any longer.

Darcy finally looks at him and lets out a faint chuckle.

“Yeah... Who would have thought the Black Widow is the type to give nicknames, huh?”

“Who would have thought, indeed...”

The awkward silence comes back with a vengeance. Steve racks his brains in order to find something, _anything_ , to break it.

“Think she got one for me?”

Darcy's laughter is real this time.

“Why? Jealous?”

“Totally,” he answers with fake seriousness.

She laughs again.

“Don't know. Captain Dorito?”

“That's Tony's,” he retorts with a grimace.

God know how many times Tony had taken a bag of Doritos with him at team briefings in the past just to annoy him with the sounds of his eating and say thinks like “Didn't know you'd taste so good, Cap” to make him turn beat red. Steve wouldn't even be surprised if, one day, Tony buys the company just to change the bag design and put his face on it and his chest on the chips.

“Captain Democracy?” Darcy suggests, amused.

“I think she'd prefer the irony of calling me Captain Defender of the Widow and the Orphan.”

Darcy bursts out laughing. Steve is sure she knows just as well as him that Natasha would totally love calling him that behind his back.

When Darcy sobers up, she stares at him with a solemn expression on her face.

“What happened with James and Stark?”

Steve sighs and Darcy looks like she regrets asking.

“Forget I asked. It's none of my bus—”

“We found the man who gave the assassination's order for Tony's parents.”

First, she looks lost and, then, it's like a switch has been flicked in her head and her face becomes somber.

“You mean the HYDRA scum who forced James to kill his friend and his wife, right? That's why Stark wasn't the only one to leave this room in anger.”

“Yeah...”

“Holy Frigga... And if they left it's because... you thought it was better for them to not be involved?” she guesses.

“Yes. They're too... emotionally compromised.”

She stares at him, bites her lower lip like she wants to say something but isn't sure how he'd react to it before finally taking a deep breath.

“And you're not?” she asks him and, in front of his obvious incomprehension, she develops, “Emotionally compromised, I mean.”

Of course she would be the one to point out the flaw in his logic.

“I—”

“Objectively,” she interrupts him, deadly serious, “I think that you're more emotionally compromised than both of them. I mean, Tony's father was your friend and he's been killed by HYDRA, the organization you thought you've defeated when you went into the ice. Tony is your friend and he's been terribly hurt by what happened to his parents. Not only that but your relation with Tony has been damaged by the revelation about his parents and it's HYDRA we're talking about so it's kinda personal for you. And I think you and I don't need me to explain all the ways you're emotionally compromised when it comes to James. So how come you can go on this mission but not them?”

“Because I'm—”

“I swear, if you tell me it's because you're Captain America, I will punch you in the face because that? That's bullshit.”

He snorts at that. He has no doubt that, if he says that, she would do it.

“I was about to say that I'm the only one who doesn't risk too much if I go there and Ukraine hears about our mission. Bucky might be under Thor's protection now, thanks to you, but many countries would be outraged and would probably ask for sanctions regarding the Avengers if they heard that he was so close to them doing a top-secret mission and without any authorization from the country in question in addition to that. And Tony got Stark Industries. He can't risk it. It's too important to him and the Avengers need his funding more than ever with the number of threats growing.”

“And why don't you ask for their authorization?” she wonders out loud.

“Because Natasha found out that the man got a lot of ties with influential politicians in the region so we would never get an authorization.”

Darcy nods absentmindedly.

“So you gonna kill him?” she inquires.

“It's the plan,” he finally responds after an hesitation and he's surprised to not see any form of disgust or disapproval in her expression.

Darcy Lewis will never cease to surprise him, obviously.

“Trust me, I understand the appeal of wiping off this piece of shit from the face of the earth but...”

“But what?” he asks, curious to know what she's getting at and still stunned by her reaction.

“Well, that man hurt James and Stark badly and I think they deserve to get to choose what happens to the guy. But since they can't come, maybe the solution is to bring him here.”

Steve watches her during a few seconds, wondering if she realizes all the things that are at stake here.

“I don't think it's—”

“I know it sounds unrealistic but they fucking deserve it,” she tells him, anger dripping from her words and he can tell it's not directed toward him but toward the man they're talking about. “They deserve to look that monster in the eye, to punch him or kill him themselves if such is their decision. Not only that but they won't ever get along if Tony can't face the real murderer of his parents and know why they wanted Howard dead exactly and why they chose to kill his father when his mother was with him. And you can't tell me that you don't see another disaster coming for them and the Avengers if the situation between them remains as it is.”

“I—”

“Also, you can't tell me that Natasha and Tony can't do the necessary if questions are asked about that man's disappearance. I'm sure that Natasha can make sure nobody in Ukraine makes waves with what she discovered about the man and the people protecting him. And Tony knows a lot of people in high places all around the world so I'm sure that he can have the man thrown in some hole in some remote area of the globe for him to never reappear if he finally decides he doesn't want him dead.”

Steve stares at her, a little gobsmacked.

“What?” Darcy asks, apparently not knowing how to interpret his reaction.

“Nothing. You're just... impressive.”

And there is the red tinting her cheeks that appears every time she gets a compliment.

“Thank you for saying that but I'm sure Natasha or Stark would have thought about that at one point.”

“Probably but it doesn't make it any less impressive. After all, we're talking about Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark here.”

The blush gets deeper at that.

“I'm gonna find Natasha to tell her about your idea and, if she thinks it's feasible, we'll do it.”

Darcy looks astonished for a moment before recovering.

“Okay...” she says with a timid smile that is so unlike her but makes her look so adorable that Steve can't help but grin, too.

Nobody says anything during a moment but there's no trace of the previous tension or discomfort from before. It just feels okay like when two persons know each other well enough to bear the silence without feeling the need to fill it.

“I'm gonna go find James, then,” Darcy finally announces. “Maybe he cooled off and will need some company.”

Steve's smile grows bigger. It doesn't even surprise him that she would want to make sure Bucky is okay now that she knows he is. Belatedly, Steve realizes with relief that there's no trace of jealousy in him. He's just thankful and happy his best friend got someone like Darcy caring about him.

“I'm sure he'll be glad for your company,” Steve retorts.

“I don't know about that... but I think I know what could lift his spirits,” Darcy says with a mischievous smile before giving him a wave and leaving the conference room.

When in the middle of the hallway, she whirls around.

“Nothing better than a dose of Rappin' with Cap to boost one James Barnes' morale.”

Darcy winks at him and Steve lets out a dramatic groan. Darcy's joyous laugh can still be heard when she disappears from view. He chuckles to himself. He doesn't know what he did to deserve someone like her making his life lighter and brighter but, for once, he doesn't question it or care. He's just grateful.

 

***

 

“Are you sure Tony isn't going to try to take matters into his own hands?” Steve asks as his eyes remain desperately riveted to the door leading to the landing pad.

He knows he's stalling the inevitable, in other words their departure, but he can't help it. If he waits one more minute, maybe the goddamn door will finally open.

“I already told you that everything has been done to prevent Tony—or Barnes—to get involved. And we both know what you're really doing here and I understand but we gotta go, Steve,” Natasha says in a neutral tone but when he turns around to look at her he can see the sympathy in her eyes.

“I know,” he sighs. “It's just...”

It's just that he thought that Bucky would be here to say goodbye. Usually, every time he goes on a mission without his best friend, he's on the landing pad to tell him to “don't do anything stupid, punk” before Steve initiates a hug between them and retorts with his usual “How can I? You're keeping all the stupid with you”. Because they both know better than anybody else that there's never a guarantee that a mission won't be the last.

But he should have seen it coming. Since the briefing two days ago, Bucky avoided him like the plague.

Heaving a deep sigh and ignoring the way his heart feels constricted, Steve goes toward the Quinjet. Natasha puts a comforting hand on his shoulder when he's on the ramp and, together, they walk inside.

“ _Wait!_ ”

They turn around and see a breathless Darcy running toward them, one hand clamped around one metal wrist. Steve can feel the imaginary grip on his heart disappear. If Bucky didn't want to be here, he could have easily escaped Darcy's hold on him. Still, he's pretty sure that Bucky wouldn't be here if Darcy didn't make him come.

“I found this glowering idiot lost in an hallway. Thought I'd give him a hand since he seemed to have forgotten the way to the landing area.”

Darcy says that last sentence while looking at Bucky who's scowling at her. Anyone would be intimidated but, of course, not Darcy. She merely rolls her eyes, lets go of him and pushes him forward. Bucky reluctantly steps toward the Quinjet as Steve walks down the ramp. They both stop when there are only a few feet between them.

“For Frigga's sake!” Darcy says, clearly exasperated. “Do you also need help to remember how to hug each other? I swear you men and your fucking pride. Is it worth the regrets of not having said goodbye if something terrible happens?” Bucky opens his mouth but Darcy beats him to it. “I'll answer for you. _No._ So hug each other already, dammit!”

With a huff of annoyance or amusement or probably both, Bucky closes the gap between them and, for the first time of this century, he initiates a hug. Steve is so stunned that, at first, he remains rigid, unable to process what's going on. It's only when he feels Bucky freeze, too, probably misinterpreting his behavior, that he reacts and hugs him back. If both men are holding each other a little too tightly, neither of them complains or mentions it.

“See? Was it really so hard?” Darcy comments behind them and Steve can hear the satisfaction in her voice.

Steve snorts and Bucky chuckles silently. They finally let go of each other.

“She forced me to come here, wouldn't take no for an answer. She's more stubborn than you. I didn't think it was even possible,” Bucky tells him with a small smile.

It's so rare to see Bucky like that and hear him string more than two words together these days that Steve can't help but grin.

“I heard that,” Darcy says.

“I know you would, doll,” Bucky retorts, taking a quick glance at her with a smirk on his face.

“Doll?” Steve repeats, pleasantly surprised.

It's the first time he sees the reappearance of Bucky's old mannerisms with someone else than him.

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky tells him, looking down suddenly, his hair hiding his face.

“Could you hurry up a little?” Darcy tells them after a moment of silence during which nothing happens. “I wanna say goodbye, too, and Natasha's doing her murder eyes which probably means Steve and her should already be gone.”

Bucky looks up at that, his expression solemn. He stares at Steve a few more instants before cupping the side of Steve's face with his right hand.

“Be careful, Steve.”

Steve can only nod, his throat so tight with emotion he can't utter a word. Bucky's hand disappear but not the sensation and the heat of it. Steve feels like the memory of this moment has been forever branded in his mind and on his skin. He wants to question Bucky, know what the gesture means because Bucky never acted like that before, but he knows it's not the right time. He's about to go on a mission and he has to put all the questions swirling in his mind in a corner of his head to focus on the task at hand.

“He's all yours, doll,” Bucky finally says with a grin as Darcy approaches them.

He walks away to put some distance between himself and Darcy and Steve and give them some semblance of privacy.

Darcy looks at Steve with a blinding smile full of joy and excitement.

“I saw that,” she mouths silently.

The happiness written on his face probably speaks for himself so he doesn't say anything about that.

“Thank you,” he tells her instead.

“For what?” she asks, eyebrows furrowed like she really can't see why he's thanking her.

“Everything,” he answers her.

And it's sincere. He owes her a lot. She found a solution for Bucky's international wanted person status, she suggested a plan for this mission that even Natasha approved immediately and which might diffuse the situation between Bucky and Tony and even make things better between Tony and himself, she's always there for him when he needs someone, she's there for Bucky, too, and if things evolve between him and Bucky, it will be mainly thanks to her.

“You don't have to thank me,” she finally retorts and he's about to contradict her but she goes on, “But if you really wanna thank me, do something for me, okay?”

“Anything,” he tells her immediately and it's the truth: there's really nothing he can imagine not doing for her at this point.

“Promise me to not take any unnecessary risk and do your best to come back home. James needs you and... well... he's not the only one who cares about you and—”

She doesn't finish and, instead, averts her eyes, looking anywhere but at him.

“I promise,” he tells her, putting a finger under her chin to make her look at him.

“Thank you,” she says.

Before he can comprehend what's happening, Darcy gets on her tiptoes and kisses him quickly on the cheek. He doesn't know what his face looks like but his expression must worry her because she suddenly steps back and seems horrified.

“Sorry! I should have ask—”

“It's okay,” he reassures her quickly and he doesn't know what possesses him at this very moment but he kisses her back on the cheek.

Darcy is wide-eyed and mouth agape with surprise. Immediately, Steve begins to panic, worrying about her reaction and its meaning.

“I'm—I have to—I mean Natasha—” Steve stammers, having no idea what he's trying to tell her.

“Yeah,” Darcy answers him like what he's saying makes sense and the stunned look disappears from her eyes. “Be safe,” she tells him as a parting word and spins around to join Bucky's side.

Before he turns around to get in the Quinjet, he can see Bucky shaking his head and looking fondly annoyed.

“You're still shit with dames,” he can read on his lips.

Well, some things never change...

 

 


	8. The Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all had a wonderful Christmas with your loved ones! Here's a belated Christmas gift for you! Enjoy! 
> 
> (This chapter isn't betaed. Sorry for the mistakes. If you notice anything, please let me know. Thank you!)

“Will you ever forgive me?” Darcy asks James as FRIDAY closes Netflix on the TV of the communal room.

His head snaps in her direction, his eyebrows furrowed.

“What?” he says, obviously having no idea why she would need his forgiveness.

“This movie was worse than torture... and you know a thing or two about torture. Will you ever forgive me for inflicting that cinematic disaster upon you?”

Given his slightly wide eyes, James is shocked. Darcy is suddenly panicking inwardly, doubt assaulting her. She joked about HYDRA or his Winter Soldier's days during their few movie rendezvous in the communal room since she offered him Thor's protection but maybe this time is one time too much or hits just a little too close to home...

She's opening her mouth to apologize profusely when James starts laughing uncontrollably, a sound coming from the depths of his belly. Relief overwhelms her at his belated reaction. As his laughter goes on, she can only stare at him, unable to look away from the sight he offers. The way his eyes crinkles up at the corners, the way his gaze becomes alive and bright, like a spark of joy has been lighted up inside his eyes, the way his face seems to look younger, the burden of his past like erased from his features... James is a handsome man, it's a fact, but, to her, he never looked as beautiful as he is right at this moment. It's like he's radiating happiness. She can't help the huge grin on her face because his joy is so communicative.

She surprises herself wishing this moment could go on forever. For him or for her? She doesn't know...

“I'm sorry but—it's just that—I realized—you're right,” he tells her, breathless. After a few more moments, his breathing back to normal, he goes on, “If they knew about it, HYDRA probably would have used watching this movie as a torture technique.”

She chuckles at that.

“So? Am I forgiven?”

“Of course, doll,” he answers her, a smile still playing on his lips and his eyes warm on her.

She tries really hard to not get ideas because, even though he doesn't use the nickname for any other woman around here, she knows it's just a past habit of him coming back to life and doesn't mean anything more than the fact he genuinely appreciates her.

Wanting to chase those kind of thoughts away, she searches for anything to say.

“At least the villain wasn't so bad... well, his ass wasn't since we got to see that part of him more than his face or any other part of his body because the director is apparently a big fan of it. And okay, his ass is great but it's nothing out of this world, either. I mean, he sure is no Steve.”

“Damn right he's not,” James agrees and Darcy freezes before turning toward him, not believing her ears.

Did he really just say that? Does it mean what she thinks it means? He notices she's watching him and, after a few seconds, raises an eyebrow as if to say “Well, is that a problem?” Hope and incredulity are waging war inside her. Surely, he can't have casually admitted to her that he likes Steve's ass. She's just interpreting things like she wants to.

“Darcy?” he calls her, his tone devoid of emotion.

She realizes right then that she didn't imagine anything. It happened. It's real. Still, she can't help the next question that comes out of her mouth.

“Did you just—”

“Yeah,” he interrupts her a little curtly before she can finish.

Silence falls over them. The more time goes by, the more it gets uncomfortable. James is practically fidgeting in his place when Darcy finally reacts.

“ _Holy shit!_ ” she suddenly blurts out happily when she's done processing the news. “I always thought you were bisexual like me and you are and—Wait,” she suddenly says, frowning, something occurring to her. “You're bisexual, right? You're not gay? I mean, not that there would be anything wrong if you were... but I just realized that maybe all those girls back then were... well, you know.”

James shakes his head immediately.

“To make things clear, I appreciate Steve's muscles as much as I appreciate your... curves,” he concludes, a sheepish grin on his lips and his eyes averting her surprised gaze.

“Huh,” she just says in response because how is she supposed to react to James Fucking Barnes telling her that he's hot for Steve's bod but also that he finds her attractive?

She can feel the tension and awkwardness between them as if they were tangible things. Racking her brain to lighten the atmosphere, she comes up short.

“I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

She turns her head toward James and sees his head is down, his hair hiding his face.

“I—No. You didn't make me uncomfortable. It's just that I didn't expect one of the men I had a crush on when I was a teenager to tell me he finds me attractive,” she tells him honestly.

His smile when he looks up at her is crooked.

“Beautiful,” he says.

“What?”

“Attractive isn't the right word, doll. Beautiful. You're beautiful.”

Darcy is so taken aback by his words that she has to remind herself to breathe.

“Okay, you gotta stop there, buddy, or I'm gonna pass out or something equally embarrassing,” she jokes in order to hide how shaken she is by his admission.

He doesn't retort anything but, after a few seconds, there's a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Did you say you were—”

“Yeah,” she cuts him off just like he interrupted her earlier, amused.

She's been waiting for him to react to her own personal revelation since the moment she made it.

“So why did you seem so surprised when I told you about me?” he questions her, appearing puzzled.

“Well, I don't know. You're from the prehistoric times like Steve so I assumed both of you would be less open about—”

She snaps her mouth shut, feeling horrified all of a sudden. She chances a glance in James' direction and what she reads on his face lets her know that he guessed what she was about to say. She feels like she's suddenly trapped in a nightmare. She can't believe she just outed Steve. In front of James, of all the people.

Nikki from one of her foster homes outed her to their foster parents after she saw her kiss Maria, a girl from school she really liked because she always came to sit beside her in the cafeteria to talk and share her lunch with her; it resulted in her being beaten and brought back to the group home two weeks later—the time for the bruises to fade—because she was sick according to them and they didn't want the disease she carried inside her to infect their kids and the other children they housed. After that episode, she hid her sexual orientation so nobody would hurt her or throw her out because she was different.

“Hey,” she hears James' voice say close to her. “It's okay. Calm down.”

It's only when she feels the cold metal of his hand making contact with the skin of her own hand that she's torn from her thoughts. Her gaze focuses on his silver fingers lying on top of hers because it's easier than facing him after what she did. James must interpret her reaction differently because he tries to remove his hand. She grips it suddenly, her emotions a whirlwind of fear, self-hatred and sadness. She's terrified that if she lets go, he's gonna disappear from her life and Steve, too, when he'll learn about what she did. And she can't imagine that happening. She cares about them so much already. She doesn't want to lose them.

“I'm so sorry,” she says, her voice wavering because she's this close to tears. “I didn't mean to—I would never—Please don't say anything. I—”

“I already knew, Darcy,” James tells her, his other hand coming to rest atop hers.

She stares at him with wet eyes round as saucers.

“What?”

“I already knew. You really thought I didn't know the punk wasn't just into dames?”

“I—”

But nothing more comes out because she doesn't know what to say. It doesn't make her unwanted revelation any worse but at least there would be no consequences for Steve. That's the only thing that matters to her right now, even though her stomach is tied into knots, thinking about Steve's reaction when she'll confess to him. Because she has to. She betrayed his trust.

Something suddenly dawns on her and she frowns, lost.

“But if you know... why haven't you ever said something to him?”

“Because—”

“No,” she interrupts him. “Don't tell me. It's none of my business, after all.”

She doesn't add that, given the fact she can't seem to be able to keep secrets, it's better if he doesn't entrust her with one of his.

“Darcy,” he says softly. “I can tell you feel guilty. But if Steve was here, he'd tell you you didn't do anything wrong and it's okay.”

“It's _not_ okay,” she literally spits at him, mad with herself but redirecting her anger toward him in spite of herself.

“Okay, it's not. But you didn't tell me anything, I guessed. You stopped before you said anything. And I already knew. So, in this case, it's okay.”

She's not convinced by his arguments and she still plans to tell everything to Steve when he's back but, for now, she chooses to drop the subject.

“I—”

But she falls silent almost immediately when the door of the communal room opens.

“ _Lewis!_ ” Stark's voice thunders as he comes inside, looking angry.

James lets go of her hand right away and puts some distance between them, like he's been caught doing something wrong. Stark's gaze zeroes in on him, a furrow forming between his brows and his mouth a tight line. She doesn't have to see James to feel him getting more and more tense under the scrutiny and the silent disapproval of Stark.

“What are you two doing together?”

“None of your business, Stark,” she retorts with a pointed glare.

“You know he's not safe, right? He's a mess—”

“Out. Now,” she interrupts Stark, her tone dripping with irritation, as she gets up, goes toward him to grab him by the arm and forces him to trail after her toward the door. Stark could protest or resist but he doesn't so she supposes he's okay with them talking privately. “I'll be right back,” she says to James who's still sitting on the couch, rigid and livid.

He merely nods after a few seconds.

As soon as Stark and her are in the corridor and the door is closed, she releases her grip on him and whirls around to face him.

“Let's get things clear, okay? I'm a big girl, Stark. I can think for myself or make decisions on my own. I don't need you or somebody else's help. And, just for you information, I think James is no more dangerous than anyone else around here.”

“Don't get me wrong, Lewis. I don't think you're stupid. But you don't have all the pieces to make an informed decision here. Robokiller has done—”

“Stop calling him that!” she cuts him off, greatly annoyed. “He's a fucking human being and he never chose to do what he's done, okay?”

“He killed many—”

“...people, including your parents. I know that. I know everything. In details. Natasha made sure I knew everything about each one of you so I would know what things I should avoid doing around you and how to react if something happens.”

Stark seems surprised but he gets over it quickly, a pissed expression taking over his face.

“He's still unstable. His brain is all scrambled. You never know how he will react to anything.”

“You know, I think the thing you just describe is called PTSD and you all have it, which means you're all “unstable” as you say and unpredictable so your point is moot.”

His jaw clenches in anger. Darcy heaves a deep sigh.

“Listen, I don't want to fight with you. Let's just agree to disagree about James, okay?”

“No,” he answers right away through clenched teeth.

“No?”

“No. I don't want to have to tell you “I told you so” or, worse, have to go to your funeral because I fucking hate funerals.”

“My funeral? Really? Now you're being dramatic,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“I'm not being dramatic, I'm being realistic. Why does no one want to face the truth about this guy?”

“Because you're not being realistic contrary to what you think. You're blinded by your anger and your pain. Anger and pain you have every right to feel, even though you're not seeing the bigger picture because of those emotions.”

“ _What?_ ” he asks her and she can see he's close to losing it.

Darcy sighs again. She never planned to bring up this subject because Stark is obviously still mourning and she doesn't want to make things worse for him. Still, things can't go on like this or it will end up in a disaster for everyone around here. Maybe what they all need if for someone to finally dare to talk to Tony about the assassination of Howard and Maria Stark and the mystery surrounding all of it.

“I... I thought about it. Your parents' death, I mean. Sure, James killed them but why was he ordered to do it?” she wonders out loud and, once she starts, she can't stop. “Why only in the nineties? Why not earlier? Why didn't they just got hold of the new serum he created through SHIELD or by infiltrating Stark Industries? Why did they kill him before they tested the serum and knew if it was good or not? Why did they kill your mother? Why was she with your father in the first place if he was on some sort of secret and dangerous mission? Why—”

“Stop,” he tells her, looking pale and haunted.

“I'm sorry,” she apologizes, sincere, “but you have to admit there's a lot of things that aren't clear about it all.”

“You think I didn't think about it all already? Of course I did! But it doesn't change anything! Everyone who could have given me answers is dead and Barnes is the only one who's still alive and he can't possibly help me because he doesn't know anything! He killed my mother and he doesn't even know why!”

She stares at him, mouth agape. “My mother”, he said, not “my parents.”

“So that's why you hate him so much...” she says to herself more than to him.

“What are you getting at, Lewis?” Stark snaps.

“You don't hate him because he killed your parents. Okay, you hate him because of that, too, but you mainly hate him because he can't bring you the answers you so desperately need and...”

“And what? Spit it out already,” he urges her, his patience obviously running thin.

“... because you can't be angry with someone who's dead,” she says and she doesn't specify that she's talking about his father because it's evident. “Or, well, you can but it's just not the same. Since James is the living embodiment of that anger, you channel it into hating him because you need it to come out.”

“I...” he begins but doesn't go on, apparently baffled.

They both keep silent during a moment.

“Since when are you Dr. Freud?” he finally says.

“ _Ugh._ Nope. Not Dr. Freud. Call me Dr. Jung if you want but, really, I prefer if you call me Dr. Lewis.”

He snorts. She smiles lightly.

“You know, maybe you'll have some answers when they bring the HYDRA's scum here.”

He glares at her at that. She watches him, surprised, and puts her hands up in the air in a placating gesture.

“Woah there, dude. Tone down the death stare, would you? You're looking at me like I killed your puppy when I actually didn't do anything.”

“Oh but you did. I know you're the reason why I can't leave the Facility.”

“I don't know what you're talking about...” she tells him, even though she does know what he's talking about.

“The innocent act doesn't fool me, Lewis. I told you when we first met that I knew that there was more to you than meets the eye. After hours and hours of research, I finally discovered via the Facility's surveillance feeds that you conspired with Romanoff but I didn't find any trace of what you did to FRIDAY so she wouldn't let me leave the building or get access to my suit or any other tech. Still, I know you did something and that's why I was looking for you.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint but I didn't do anything. FRIDAY did. I just asked her to help, told her I didn't want you to act rashly and out of vengeance.”

“What?” he says, flabbergasted.

“You really thought I hacked her or something? I'm a good hacker but I'm not that good.”

“Why did you do that?” he questions her before shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “Ah, I forgot. Barnes, of course. If I can't get out, neither can he, right? And if I can't get my hands on my suit and weapons, I can't kill him while Rogers is away and can't protect him. Smart.”

“You're wrong. I never thought—and neither did Natasha—that you would take advantage of Steve's absence to kill James. And we didn't do it just to stop James from following her and Steve. We did it for you, too. Actually, James wasn't even our main concern here so we mostly did it for you. Natasha knew you'd want to follow them and kill the HYDRA's asshole so she asked me to get FRIDAY's on our side, since she knew your AI liked me, and make sure you couldn't do anything.”

“Fucking spy! I have every right to kill him and she knows it!”

“Sure and we all think so, but getting answers before killing him is a good idea, isn't it? Yet, Natasha wasn't sure you would have been thinking straight enough to stop yourself from killing him before he started talking.”

Stark grits his teeth before looking away. He eventually sighs. Looks like he's admitting Natasha was right...

“I still hate the spy.”

“I know. She's annoying, right? I mean, she always knows your every move and reaction before you even think about them,” she jokes, even if it's true and, sometimes, even she thinks it's irritating.

“She is... and you are, too.”

She chuckles.

“I'm not planning on changing anytime soon so deal with it,” she retorts and he rolls his eyes in reaction.

Stark turns around and leaves without a word. She watches him doing so, unbelieving.

“Well, goodbye to you, too, Stark!” she shouts and he stops and whirls around.

“Call me Tony. And from now, I'll stop calling Barnes Robokiller. But not for him. For you.”

The smile that splits her face can't possibly get any bigger.

“I'll take it. And thanks, Tony.”

“Don't mention it,” he retorts and leaves for good this time.

She goes back in the communal room and spots James right away. He's standing with his back to the door. Somehow, seeing his rigid posture, she knows he heard everything. What an idiot. She forgot he has super hearing like Steve. She should have gone farther in the hallway to talk with Stark—Tony.

“You okay?” she asks.

He doesn't say anything for a long minute.

“I don't know... Hearing you defending me with so much faith and conviction and... hearing about the man from HYDRA who will be brought back here... I don't know,” he repeats, sounding horribly lost.

“You didn't know he'd be captured alive and brought here?” she asks, taken aback by his second confidence.

She's not surprised by the first since he has a hard time believing someone—well, except Steve—can care about him or find him any quality. She hopes one day it will change but she can't do anything about that for now.

“No. After the briefing, I didn't talk to Steve again. Not until you made me go say goodbye to him on the landing pad.”

“I'm sorry you learned it that way.”

“Better that way than seeing him getting out of the Quinjet when Steve and Natalia are back,” he tells her, finally turning around.

She can see the turmoil in his blue eyes and feels a pang in her chest. There's no trace left of the happy and carefree James from earlier. She has a feeling he won't be back before long with what awaits him when Steve will return.

“Need some comfort?” she offers, approaching him and opening her arms.

He looks torn as if he's not certain it's right to accept or if he can do it. She gets it. James never accepted more than a few little gestures from her like taking his hand in hers and he didn't do more than brush her hand or fingers before today. But, finally, when she thinks he will decline, he closes the distance separating them and engulfs her in a tight hug. He buries his face in the crook of her neck and she can feel every breath leaving him on her skin. She shivers lightly and immediately hates herself for her reaction.

What's going on with her today? He's in love with Steve—not that he admitted it to her but she doesn't need him to—and Steve loves him. There's just no place for her in all that.

Suddenly terrified by her reactions and feelings, she suddenly extricates herself from his embrace and he lets her go.

“Thank you,” he says with what is probably supposed to be a tight-lipped smile but looks more like a sad pout.

“You're welcome.”

She doesn't know what else to say and she feels the pressing urge to flee far from here, far from him. She doesn't want to spend more time with him and react wrongly to something he does or says. If it happens, there would be terrible consequences for her and both of the boys. She already did one terrible mistake today, there's no need to risk adding another to that.

“I... I have to go. I got something urgent I need to do,” she lies, looking anywhere but at him.

“Okay,” he answers.

“See you later,” she says when he doesn't say anything else and she leaves the room in a hurried pace.

 

***

 

Knocks on her door in the middle of the night startle her awake. When the knocking persists, she sighs and leaves her bedroom to go answer the door.

“Coming!” she shouts a little angrily.

She doesn't know who she expects when she opens but it's not James, looking breathtakingly impatient and joyful. She blinks several times, not trusting her own eyes. Surely, it has to be some kind of dream, right?

“Steve—” he starts but falls silent, his mouth still opened, as he looks at her from head to toe.

She didn't realize she was only wearing a long T-shirt reaching just under the middle of her thighs before she answered the door but now she's acutely aware of that fact.

“Steve, what?” she asks as she folds her arms to hide her chest.

Seriously, if he keeps watching her with that intense gaze of his, she doesn't know what she'll do. Nothing good, that's for sure.

“Steve is back.”

Everything else is forgotten from the moment those words leave his lips. Those last days, she tried to not think too much about Steve and Natasha's mission and the possibility that they would be hurt or worse but, just before going to sleep, it was impossible for her to not think about it, alone in the dark with only her thoughts for company.

“They're okay?” she questions him, needing to know.

“Yeah.”

“Good,” she sighs, relieved, before adding, frowning, “You came to tell me that?”

He's shy all of a sudden and unable to look her in the eye.

“They'll land in a few minutes. I thought—I thought you'd like to...”

He doesn't finish his sentence. She's overwhelmed, so full of emotions that she feels like she's about to burst. Steve is about to return to him but James thought about her, about the fact she'll want to see Steve and Natasha as soon as they're back. She doesn't know how to process that. It's too much. So she shoves it all in a corner of her mind for now.

“Let me put on something,” she says hastily and runs to her room to put on the first clothes she finds.

She gets back to him less than a minute later, closes her door and, without thinking, grabs his hand. She freezes almost immediately when she realizes what she did. She glances at him and sees his gaze is focused on their hands.

“Is this okay?” she asks him softly.

“Yeah. It's okay,” he answers her with a small smile but something she can't name shining in his eyes.

They hurry on their way to the landing pad, their hands still interlinked when they reach their destination. Clint is the only one who's here and nods in their direction, though his gaze lingers a few seconds on their hands. Darcy suddenly releases her hold on James' hand like she's been burned and she doesn't dare to look in his direction to see his reaction.

Less than five minutes later, the Quinjet arrives. She suddenly remembers she has something to confess to Steve and her impatience gives way to anxiety. She knows now is not the moment to tell him about what she did but the mere idea of telling him makes dread pools in her stomach. The ramp comes down and Steve gets out of the Quinjet. When he sees them—well, James—a smile lights up his face. James joins him and, before she—or Steve or anyone—can understand what happens, he's grabbing Steve by the back of his neck with one hand, cupping the side of his face with the other and kissing him. Steve isn't long to respond to his kiss with fervor. Her jaw is probably on the ground right now. She can't believe it! It happened! She feels like clapping with joy but she's too busy watching the beautiful sight they offer. When they finally stop, they're breathless and looks radiant in their happiness. She can't help but grin. They talk and she can't hear what they say but, judging by Steve's expression, she'd bet all her money that James just told him he loves him.

Suddenly, Steve is looking at her over James' shoulder and he blushes for an unknown reason. Maybe because she's watching them and he just realized it.

Well, she's not sorry. She wouldn't want to miss that for the world.

Steve's gaze focuses on James again and, by the way Steve's features quickly change and become somber and serious, she guesses that they just started addressing a topic that is anything but good. They're probably talking about the HYDRA's piece of shit. She feels angry on James and Steve's behalf, knowing that even now, in a moment that should be happy and only that, HYDRA is still here to ruin everything.

She catches sight of Natasha leaving Clint's side and coming toward her and she meets her halfway.

“Everything went well during our absence?”

“Yes,” she answers her with a smile.

“Tony knows?”

“Yeah... and he's not happy.”

“I didn't expect anything else,” Natasha tells her placidly.

“You okay?” Darcy asks her after a moment of silence, observing Natasha to spot any sign of injury.

“Of course, Darcyotchka.”

A smile slowly takes place on Natasha's face.

“Thank you for helping us with this mission and Tony and Barnes. You did good. Without you, I'm not certain things would be so well... or I should say about to go well.”

She blushes and briefly looks down, embarrassed.

“You're the Black Widow. You would have find a solution without me.”

“I might be the Black Widow but I'm only human. Well, slightly more than human,” she rectifies with a smirk. “Still, even I can't find solutions to everything alone.”

“Darcy?” James' voice calls and she turns around to look at him. “Can we talk?”

She frowns but nods. She faces Natasha again to excuse herself but she's gone. Clint, too, she notices. She supposes they brought the man from HYDRA to his cell, which means it's only her and the boys on the landing pad now. She goes toward them.

“You wanted to tell me something?” she asks, a little ill-at-ease when she notices the way Steve looks at her now like he's both grateful for her and happy to see her.

She doesn't think he'll keep watching her like that when he knows about what she did. She'll be lucky if he ever looks at her again after that.

“Steve told me you came up with the idea to bring the HYDRA's higher up here.”

“I—” she begins but she doesn't go on because she has no idea what to say.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“It wasn't that important and I didn't do anything,” she retorts with a shrug.

They all gotta stop to thank her and congratulate her all the time. She's not used to it and she's not emotionally equipped to deal with that. It leaves her speechless and awkward and she doesn't like it.

“It is and you did. Thank you,” he tells her, his words suffused with gratitude and sincerity.

Before she knows what's going on, his lips are kissing her on the forehead. The gesture is so sweet and tender that it brings tears to her eyes. He lingers here a few seconds before stepping back.

“Buck told me what happened when you talked about... him,” Steve tells her.

She feels horribly cold to her core suddenly. She can't help it. She starts crying.

“I'm so—”

“No, _no_ , it's okay,” he rushes to say.

“Really shit with dames,” she hears James tell him as he comes next to her.

Steve throws him a dirty look before his attention is back on her. First he looks lost, then he appears terrified and heartbroken at the same time. His reaction makes her sob in earnest. James beside her sighs and takes her in his arms. She accepts his embrace and hides her face against his sweater.

“What Steve wanted to tell you is that he's not mad at you.”

It makes her look up and at Steve. Tears running down her face, she stares at him, wanting to see if James is telling to truth. Steve smiles reassuringly at her.

“It's true. I'm not mad. Not at all. Bucky told me you didn't say anything, that he guessed and that he knew anyway so you feeling guilty is just pointless because nothing happened.”

“But—“

“No buts. I'm not mad. End of the discussion,” he concludes and there's an hint of his Captain voice when he says that.

She has a hard time believing she got off so lightly but she feels too relieved to do anything but to accept it. Silence falls over them but it's not uncomfortable. It's just okay. She wishes she could enjoy their company a little more, now that she knows her mistake won't have the consequences she feared for days, but she knows it's not possible. James and Steve just got reunited and they probably won't have a lot of time to enjoy their new relationship when they'll start interrogating the HYDRA's member so it would be a good idea to leave them alone.

“I'm gonna go. You two probably have a lot to discuss... or do,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively and Steve bites back a smile as James lets out a short laugh. “Go at it like rabbits!” she finishes before waving them goodbye and walking away, the sound of their laughters following her.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this long chapter! See, things are moving for our trio... but, still, be prepared for a slow burn and a bumpy ride before they finally get together. 
> 
> Next chapter: Winter is coming... or should I say cumming :P (Okay, I'll see myself out ^^)
> 
> Please, leave a comment or kudo or, even better, both. They make me happy and write faster ;)


	9. The Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back! FINALLY! Here's chapter 9. I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter but you waited long enough for it. Hope you'll like it! And sorry for the mistakes--if something makes your eyes bleed, please let me know so I can fix that. Thanks! 
> 
> NSFW chapter ahead. Winter is finally coming. You've been warned ;)

****This is the sweetest pleasure ~~torture~~ Bucky has ever felt ~~endured~~ in his very long life. Steve and him are not even naked yet and he already feels painfully hard, his cock already leaking a little in his pants. His skin feels too tight, his body like it’s on fire ~~a furnace~~. His lips barely leave Steve’s. Every time they do come apart, they’re breathless and their mouth can’t help but touch the other’s skin like they need the physical contact more than anything else in the world at the moment. And maybe they really do. Years and years ~~decades~~ is a long time to ignore your own feelings and desires. Especially when one loves the man in front of him since he was thirteen and is now nearing thirty-four years old ~~one hundred years old~~.

“Buck...” Steve sighs against his lips and the way he says his name goes straight to Bucky’s cock.

“What?” he asks, his voice a bit husky, as his mouth wanders from Steve’s mouth to his neck where he can feel his jugular throbbing wildly.

He starts sucking the skin there and Steve lets out a sound between a cry of surprise and a moan. It’s like music to Bucky’s ears. How many times did he dream of hearing those sounds coming from Steve’s mouth? _A thousand times. A million times,_ he thinks, desire coursing through his veins as one of his hand goes south of Steve’s body.

“I—” his best friend begins but he falls silent and bucks against him instead as Bucky palms him through his pants.

“You, what? Tell me,” he insists, wanting ~~needing~~ to know.

“I need... I need you...”

He grabs Steve by the neck and kisses him hard, saying that way what he can’t put into words yet. Steve does the same. Both of them have always been good with words, ~~at least, Bucky had been good with them in the past~~ him to charm and seduce, Steve to inspire and convince, but they never knew how to express themselves when it came to their feelings. Maybe it was the era they were born in that made them like that or maybe it’s just them. No matter the explanation, they would need to work on fixing that for them to work. But for now, all that matters is Steve and the need to feel, taste and see every inch of him.

They get rid of their clothes, ripping them carelessly in their frenzy to touch each other’s skin. In a corner of his mind, Bucky thinks they should slow down because it’s their first time, they should savor it, but his hands and mouth don’t want to cooperate, too busy caressing Steve’s chest and sucking on his nipples at the same time. Steve can’t contain the sounds of pleasure that Bucky draws out of him.

“Never knew... you were a.... moaner... punk,” Bucky says between licks and bites.

“Shut up... jerk,” Steve retorts, his voice wrecked by pleasure.

Fueled by Steve’s reactions, he pushes Steve on the mattress to make him lay down, gets between his legs and lets his mouth exploring him, getting lower and lower until his face is level with Steve’s cock. And what a fucking glorious sight it is. His dick is rock hard, swollen and dripping with drops of pre-cum. Bucky looks back at Steve’s face, his eyes dark and full of want and unsaid things, and realizes at this very instant that this moment that feels like the best fucking dream he’s ever had is real. He unconsciously licks his lips. Now he really can’t wait to get his mouth on Steve.

“Keep looking at me like that and I’m gonna come.”

Bucky can’t help but smirk at that. The same can be said about him given the way Steve watches him like he wants to devour him whole.

“Well, in that case, I’ll stop...” Bucky says, breaking eye contact with him before getting hold of Steve’s cock and taking it in his mouth.

Steve’s back arches in reaction and Bucky uses the movement to take him as deep as possible in his mouth, fighting his gag reflex.

“Oh God...” his best friend says in a breathless tone.

Bucky starts sucking him, using all the tricks he’s been taught by the few men he’s had fun with in his teens (to forget and bury his growing attraction and feelings for Steve—to no avail, of course) and seeing how Steve reacts to each of them. Using a little bit of teeth here and there makes incoherent sounds that could be words come from Steve’s lips. Tracing his veins and the head of his cock with his tongue makes his hips go so wild that Bucky has to use his metal hand to keep him still. Playing with his balls and touching his perineum results in him coming suddenly in his mouth, his release hot and salty. Bucky swallows it all before releasing him slowly, giving a last lick at the tip of his dick, making Steve, whose eyes are closed, twitch.

“So? How was it?” Bucky asks with a smile, even though he damn well knows how it was.

Steve opens his eyes and stares at him a few seconds before answering.

“Didn’t think my first time would be like this...”

Bucky freezes, all traces of smile gone from his face.

“Your first—?”

Bucky is unable to articulate anything more than that. Surely, it must be a misunderstanding. Steve can’t mean what he thinks he means. He remembers having seen Steve disappearing with Peggy a few times during the war so he can’t be a virgin. His best friend averts his eyes and there’s a bit of pink on the apple of his cheeks.

“It’s not the first time I have sex,” he tells him, still not looking at him, and Bucky feels like he can breathe again because the way things have been rushed is no way to live your first sexual experience. “I meant my first blowjob with... well, with a man.”

“You never been with a man?” Bucky questions him, taken aback by his answer.

Steve has come back from the dead, so to speak, in 2012 and they were now in 2018. He thought for sure that his best friend has enjoyed the few perks of this new century like being free to have sexual relationships with whoever you wanted without it ruining anyone’s reputation and, therefore, life.

Steve takes a deep breath and finally looks him in the eye again.

“I—I never wanted any man but you, Buck,” Steve confesses and the declaration sends a rush of emotions and burning want through him.

He can’t help but kiss passionately Steve and, quickly, things become heated again. By the time their lips separate, he’s aching, needing so badly to come. Steve seems to sense it because he grabs his dick and strokes it a little clumsily at first before rubbing it with more assurance as he analyzes his every reaction and sound to know what works for him. The pressure builds fast inside him, his balls tightening, and he can feel the telltale tingles at the base of his spine. In no time at all, he’s cumming, his semen smearing Steve’s hand and both of their stomach. Steve lets go of him and puts one by one his fingers in his mouth, tasting Bucky. Judging by his face, he likes it. Bucky watches him doing so with a heated gaze, convinced that if he was physically able to right now, he would come again from that sight alone. Still, he can feel the desire starting to pool in his belly again, his cock already starting to harden. He never knew he could be functional again so quickly but it’s Steve in front of him so he shouldn’t be surprised.

Damn, he’s pretty certain they won’t leave this room anytime soon... if ever.

He suddenly pushes Steve on his back and climbs on top of him to kiss him hard. Being skin to skin with him feels so good but it’s the way their cocks rub against one another with each of their movement that really is exquisite. He could stay like this and just do that with Steve all day but, still, he wants ~~needs~~ to feel him inside him. He can already imagine it, as he fantasized about it so many times: Steve finally inside him, making him feel full and not moving for a moment before making shallow and slow thrusts at first, then starting to piston inside him, his thrusts getting increasingly harder and deeper, and finally coming in his ass. He’s almost hard as a rock just thinking about it.

“I—” Bucky starts but the shrill ringtone of Steve’s cellphone interrupts him.

Bucky groans as Steve closes his eyes and lets out a long-suffering sigh. After a few more seconds, he forces Bucky to move before reaching for his Starkphone on the nightstand. Bucky takes a look at the screen. It’s Natalia.

“What?” Steve says a little gruffly.

“Am I interrupting something?” he can hear Natalia’s voice ask innocently and someone who doesn’t know her like Bucky does could think she’s sincere.

The thing is that, just by her tone, Bucky can tell she’s smirking on the other side of the phone. Of course, she knows what they were doing. She always knows everything around here. It’s as impressive as it is irritating.

“You damn well know you did,” Steve retorts, obviously not in the mood to play Natalia’s games.

She sighs.

“I’m sorry, Steve, but I gave you as much time as I could before calling you,” she tells him and Bucky can tell she’s really sincere now.

“What’s going on?” Steve asks, dead serious.

“Tony wants to interrogate Pavlov. _Now._ ”

Just like that, Bucky can tell the moment between Steve and him is gone. Bucky is torn between having regrets they couldn’t have more time to themselves and wanting to see and confront the man who made him kill a man he called his friend and who he admired for his work.

“We’re coming,” Steve says in a sigh.

“Were about to come, you mean,” Bucky can’t help but comment.

He can hear Natalia snort as Steve rolls his eyes, his lips twitching like he wants to laugh but holds it in.

“Tell Barnes to stop being grumpy and start being grateful because neither of you would have the time to come once if Darcy didn’t make her best to make Tony wait.”

He doesn’t even want to know how she knows he and Steve both came—there are some things best not to know.

“Darcy?” Steve says, surprised.

“Yes, Darcy. She knew you needed time so she took it upon herself to talk with Tony and give you time. I swear, that girl is your guardian angel and you better be grateful to have someone like her on your side.”

Steve glances at Bucky and the look they exchange is full of love and gratitude for each other but, and most of all, for Darcy. They both know that, without her, they wouldn’t be here right now.

“We are.”

“Good because I would have had to hurt you if you weren’t.”

Natalia’s affection for Darcy is unmistakable in her words.

“We’ll be here in ten minutes,” Steve finally says.

“Okay,” Natalia says before adding, a smile in her voice, “Make the most of those ten minutes.”

And make the most of them they did.

 

***

 

As Bucky and Steve arrive in the room full of screens covering all the angles of the interrogation room adjacent to it and where the man Natalia called Pavlov—a dark-haired man in his fifties—is sitting on a chair, they discover that Wanda, Natalia, Clint, Stark, Darcy and even Rhodey and Vision are here. Bucky is taken aback by the number of persons and also the presence of the last two, knowing they weren’t on base two hours ago.

Bucky can’t help but relax a little and grin a bit at Darcy when he catches sight of the small but sincere and happy smile she’s addressing to him and Steve.

“Finally,” Stark huffs, looking impatient, frustrated and angry all at once.

“Tony,” Darcy says like a warning.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t ruin their honeymoon phase, I know,” he retorts on an annoyed tone. “Can we start interrogating him now?” he adds, his question directed at Natalia.

Surprisingly, no one reacts to what Stark said. They don’t even look at Steve or him. Either they all knew about the two of them for a long time or they just don’t care. Whatever the answer is, he’s grateful. He really doesn’t like to be the center of attention. Not anymore.

“Go ahead,” she tells him and Stark doesn’t have to be told twice.

He walks toward the door directing to the interrogation room and, after the automatic door opens to let him in, he goes inside. The door closes behind him. 

“You’re not going in there?” Steve asks Natalia.

“No. Tony needs to do this alone.”

“Are you sure it’s a—” Steve begins but the punch that Stark throws at Pavlov interrupts him.

Immediately, Steve makes a step toward the door. Bucky is too transfixed by the absence of reaction of Pavlov in spite of the blood trickling down his nose to stop Steve from intervening.

“ _Don’t,_ ” Natalia tells Steve, her tone firm.

“He’s gonna—”

“Steve,” Darcy says gently as she puts her hand on his forearm to hold him back. “Trust him. Let him deal with Pavlov alone. He won’t do anything rash or stupid.”

Steve seems to hesitate but he finally steps back, sign of his surrender. Darcy squeezes his arm a little before letting go.

“So... Let’s not waste any time here,” Stark says. “You know what I want to know. So start talking.”

Pavlov, in spite of his probably fractured nose, smiles with arrogance and scorn.

“You want to know why Mommy has been strangled to death by the Winter Soldier, huh? You hope to hear me tell you she was involved in your father’s work, right? To know that her death wasn’t gratuitous?”

Bucky has no memory of ever seeing this man or ever hearing his voice giving him orders but it doesn’t matter. He wants to kill him right now like he wished he’d been given the occasion to kill Pierce and all his handlers before him. ~~“~~ ~~Howard... Howa—” He can hear faint echoes of t~~ ~~he desperate and weak voice of Maria Stark calling her husband; her husband he’s already killed, breaking his skull and shattering his brain with his metal fist.~~ He tries to not let the memories resurface because he knows now he’s not the time to get lost in flashbacks and have a panic attack but he can’t help it. ~~“Sergeant Barnes?”~~

He suddenly feels a hand taking hold of his, grounding him in the here and now, and when his eyes stop seeing things that no longer exist, they focus on Darcy’s face, trying to look calm for him but he can read the worry in her big, blue eyes. Beside her, Steve is watching him, too, concern written all over his features. Darcy smiles faintly when she realizes he’s back with them. Even though the ghosts in his head are gone, he keeps Darcy’s hand in his, too afraid they’ll come back if he lets go of her. If it makes him weak, he doesn’t care right now.

“... here to play. Give me my answers now,” Stark tells Pavlov, anger radiating off of him.

Pavlov merely shrugs, a grating grin still playing on his lips.

“Well, sorry to disappoint but she hasn’t been killed because she was valuable. It was just a case of wrong place, wrong time. Or should I say, wrong choice. On your father’s part, of course.”

There’s a moment of silence during which Stark doesn’t move and barely breathe. That moment seems to stretch endlessly. Then, suddenly—

“FRIDAY, activate protocol N-238.”

The screens all turn black. Steve reacts immediately and tries to get inside the interrogation room but the door doesn’t open.

“FRIDAY! Open the door!”

“Pardon me, Captain Rogers, but I can’t do it. Boss is the only one who can now.”

Steve starts punching the door, desperately trying to destroy it and stop whatever is happening in the interrogation room on the other side. The only thing he achieves is making indents in the metal.

“Steve...” Darcy gently calls him, still holding Bucky’s hand.

“We have to find a way to get in there! Vision—”

“Trust Tony, Steve,” Darcy interrupts him. “Just for once, stop expecting the worst from him. I know you’re worried he’ll kill Pavlov and take away from James the answers he wants and needs but Tony won’t do that. He might hate James but he won’t take something so important from him.”

“How can you be so sure?” Steve snaps, still throwing his fists against the door.

“Because I trust him to do the right thing. And if you really knew him, you would, too.”

Steve suddenly freezes mid-movement. He turns around slowly, looking torn between feeling ashamed and angry. His eyes focus on Darcy.

“I—”

Whatever Steve is about to say is interrupted by the opening of the door and the arrival of Stark. He’s nothing like the larger than life man ~~just like Howard~~ he usually is. He’s the shadow of himself. Bucky notices his split knuckles and all the blood on his hands and the red droplets on his clothes. He wonders if Pavlov is dead. Bucky had questions for him, but he knows he won’t hold it against Stark if he killed him.

In his place, he thinks he would have killed him.

“Is he—” Steve starts, hesitating.

“He’s not dead,” Stark answers, guessing the question, a fake smile on his face—Bucky wonders if it’s there because he knew Steve would doubt him and he just got the proof he was right.

Stark turns toward him.

“He’s all yours,” he says to Bucky, looking him in the eye for the first time since they tried to kill each other in the HYDRA’s base in Siberia.

For the first time, too, there’s no trace of rage or hatred for him in his eyes. In fact, there’s nothing in Stark’s dark gaze like life itself has been sucked out of him.

Bucky nods. Darcy lets go of his hand, after giving it a last squeeze to show him her support. If he could talk right now, if his tongue didn’t feel like lead, Bucky would thank her for being there for him. Since he can’t speak, he merely stares at her, hoping his gaze shows how grateful he is. Judging by her answering, little smile, she gets what he can’t voice at the moment.

“Feel free to kill him if you feel murdery,” Stark adds, still watching him. “I’ll help you disappear the body.”

“Tony...” Steve says, irritation in his voice.

“Shut it, Captain Self-Righteousness. Pavlov is none of your business. Actually, he’s none of anyone here’s business except me and Barnes so whatever you think, I don’t want to hear it because I don’t give a fucking damn.”

Steve looks properly chastised and his gaze suddenly focuses on the floor. Everyone else keeps silent. Without another word, Stark leaves the room. Darcy seems about to follow him but she hesitates, looking at the door then at Bucky. Rhodey takes the direction of the exit, not without putting a hand on Darcy’s shoulder in passing, silently letting her know she doesn’t have to choose between staying here or chasing after Stark because he got him. The automatic door soundlessly closes behind Rhodey.

“You ready to go in there, Barnes?” Natalia asks him, her face an emotionless mask.

But he knows her microexpressions, learned decades ago how to decipher them. He can tell she’s worried, even if she doesn’t show it. He’s not sure, though, if she’s fearing for him or for Steve in case he does something like killing Pavlov. How would Steve react if he kills him? He hasn’t the slightest idea. Sure, Steve isn’t the paragon of virtue history has made up, but still, he’s not sure he would approve of Bucky murdering someone out of revenge. He really doesn’t want to find out if Steve will see him differently if he does it or not.

“Yes,” Bucky finally answers, his voice a little hoarse.

Natalia nods. As he walks toward the interrogation room’s door, he mentally prepares himself in order to appear stoic. He doesn’t want to give Pavlov’s the satisfaction to see how much he’s affected by his presence.

“Ah! Here comes HYDRA’s greatest weapon,” Pavlov exclaims as Bucky steps inside the room.

The door closes behind him, leaving them truly alone since Stark didn’t turn on the cameras and monitors again. Pavlov is a bloody mess. His nose is definitely broken now, one of his eyebrow arch is split, bleeding abundantly, his teeth have turned red with blood. Still, he acts like he’s not hurt at all. Bucky isn’t surprised. Order through pain was one of HYDRA’s mottos. Pavlov certainly had suffered far worse at the hands of the organization for them to be sure of his unfailing allegiance to them.

“Look at you. The perfect killing machine turned pathetic shell of a man.”

During an instant, Bucky sees red and can almost feel his mind wanting to slip into the Winter Soldier’s mindest again to not have to deal with all the emotions Pavlov is stirring inside him. But he fights against that because he knows it’s exactly what Pavlov wants.

“How does it feel to be back in the shadow’s of America’s golden boy? To be useless again? Because that’s what James Buchanan Barnes is and always has been: useless. A burden. A coward. A footnote in history.”

Bucky tries to ignore what Pavlov says but it’s hard. He can feel his self-control slowly but surely slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

“The Winter Soldier on the other hand is useful. A hero. A legend. The maker of modern history.”

Every word out of Pavlov’s mouth is like torture. Because he knows the world is as fucked up as it is mainly because of his work. Because he eliminated good people who could have made it a better place. ~~He still can hear Pierce’s voice telling him how important he was. “Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century.”~~

“Don’t you miss being instrumental? Having a real purpose?”

“I have a purpose,” he says through clenched teeth.

“Really? What is it? Being Captain America’s sidekick? Warming Captain America’s bed? Please,” Pavlov scoffs.

Hearing him say all those things make him want to punch him with his metal fist until there’s nothing left of his head except scattered pieces of skin, hair and brain matter. Bucky’s blood suddenly runs cold in his veins. Those thoughts, they aren’t him. It’s the Winter Soldier talking. It’s HYDRA’s imprint on his mind talking.

“I have a purpose,” he repeats and he wants to say more, how his purpose now is eradicating HYDRA from the face of the Earth but he can’t talk.

“So tell me. What is it? Being a fearful and docile dog when you were the most ruthless wolf before?”

He can’t help it. He looses his self-control.

“You made me like that!” he suddenly snaps. “It wasn’t me! I was brainwashed!”

“Is that what you tell yourself at night to sleep? Or what your dear Captain America tries to convince you—and himself—of?” Pavlov says with a snort. “You can try to bury your head in the sand to ignore the truth but we both know that the Winter Soldier is not HYDRA’s making. He was always there, lying dormant inside you. HYDRA only helped you to reveal who you truly were at your core by giving you the serum. Because that’s the thing with the serum: it doesn’t change a person, it only reveals their true self.”

He feels sick and like he’s about to throw up. How could he have forgotten that? He read about the serum’s effects in the Smithsonian when he read about Steve’s transformation.

Pavlov wasn’t lying.

It was the truth.

~~Oh God... It’s all me. I’m a monster. I’ve always been a monster. I—~~

“ _Bucky!_ ” Steve says, his tone full of anguish, as he enters the room and rushes toward him.

It’s only then that he realizes that he’s holding his head in his hands, his fingers pulling hard on his hair. He’s having a relapse, acting like he did in the first months after he escaped HYDRA’s clutches. ~~Who cares? Suffering is the only thing I deserve. I’m a fucking monster. A killer. A—~~

“Such a wa—” Pavlov starts to say but he abruptly stops talking and screams instead.

Bucky can’t help but look up, just like Steve does. What he sees is Pavlov trashing on the chair is sitting on, looking like he’s going through hell even though no one is touching him. It’s after a few seconds that Bucky notices Darcy, Wanda and Natalia’s presence in the room. Seeing the focused and grim expression on Wanda’s face and the red energy swirling around her hands, he understands that she’s the one doing that to Pavlov.

“Thank you,” Darcy says kindly to Wanda, even though there’s her hard expression on her face.

Pavlov stops moving and shouting as Wanda nods in acknowledgement and Bucky realizes Darcy was the one to ask Wanda to make him live or relive mentally something terrible. Part of him wants to ignore what’s happening and wallow in his misery after Pavlov’s revelation but another part, a bigger part, can’t tear his eyes from Darcy. The gentle and compassionate woman he knows is gone and in her place stands a woman who looks like an avenging goddess about to unleash her wrath. She slowly walks toward Pavlov before stopping next to him and forcing him to face her by roughly grabbing him by the jaw.

“Look at me,” she tells him—no, orders him.

His eyes remain closed. Pavlov only does open his eyes when Darcy takes hold of his broken nose and squeezes it, making him moan in pain.

“You listen to me, you scum of the universe. I know what you’re trying to do. It won’t work. And you know why? Because we won’t let your lies poisoning James’ mind. Yes, the serum reveals the true self of someone and yes, the Winter Soldier is part of James but James is above all James Buchanan Barnes, a man so good and wanting so bad to do the right thing that you had to torture him and brainwash him repeatedly to make him forget his beliefs. And still, in spite of all those terrible things that would have broken anyone else and made them do your every bidding, wanting to do good was so ingrained in him that you had to repeatedly convince him he was making the world a greater place to make him cooperate. So, yes, he’s not just James but the Winter Soldier, too. But guess what? You’re gonna regret that he is because this hero and legend as you called him will use everything you and your fucking Nazi friends have taught him to destroy you all. And he’ll succeed. So I don’t know how I’ll do it but you can trust me when I tell you that I’ll make sure you live a long life in one of the worst prisons on Earth but still have front row seat to see James destroying piece by piece your organization and his members and watch him and the Avengers make the world a better place, a world that is the very opposite of your twisted ideals.”

She stares at Pavlov during a few, long seconds, her face expressing intense hatred and disgust. Wordlessly, she turns around and leaves. Everyone in the room is looking at the door through which Darcy disappeared and looks as speechless as Bucky is. Well, everyone except Natalia. Natalia looks somewhat proud.

Bucky still can’t wrap his head around everything Darcy said to Pavlov but his heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest because her defense of him, the sincerity dripping from every word she pronounced, feels unbelievable, amazing and too much all at the same time. Natalia leaves the room with Wanda and there’s only Steve and him left. Bucky had questions for Pavlov before this but his brain is a mess right now and he can’t remember them for the life of him. Actually, he doesn’t know if he still cares about getting answers. What could he tell him that would make Bucky feel better about himself? What could Pavlov say that would change anything to what Bucky did? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He just wants to be as far away as possible from Pavlov and his words ~~lies? truths?~~ that cut him like knives.

As Bucky is about to speak, the Avengers Assemble signal goes off, letting everyone on base know there’s a new mission. He can see Steve’s jaw clench.

“Let’s go,” Bucky says and they leave the interrogation room without even a last glance toward Pavlov.

The door closes behind them as they realize everyone left the surveillance room. They keep walking and go through the door leading into the hallway where they catch sight of Darcy, Natalia, Sam, Clint, Vision and Wanda in the middle of a discussion. Bucky notices right away that Darcy now looks pale and uneasy.

“... did was great,” Wanda says.

“Like Wanda said. So stop sweating it, Lewis. You did good,” Sam tells her with a smile.

“Yeah, Darce, it’s like you were a student at the Cap School of Badass Speeches,” Clint jokes and Sam snorts at that.

Bucky can see her roll her eyes but she smiles nonetheless.

“I love you all and you’re awesome for trying to cheer me up but stop with the compliments already and go save the world,” Darcy retorts gently.

The group leave, Natalia the last one because she briefly takes hold of Darcy’s hand before letting go to follow the others when she sees Steve and Bucky in the corridor. They slowly approach Darcy who hasn’t noticed them yet. Steve clears his throat to notify her of their presence. She lets out a squeak and whirls around suddenly, a hand on her heart.

“Holy Frigga...”

“Sorry,” Steve apologizes immediately, looking sheepish. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

Nothing more is said and the silence stretches on, the atmosphere becoming heavy with things unsaid.

“I—” Darcy, Bucky and Steve starts at the same time.

Darcy chuckles slightly as Steve briefly looks down, a crooked grin on his lips, and Bucky doesn’t react, his gaze still focused on Darcy, trying to understand why she looks so guilty and ill-at-ease.

“I’m sorry,” Darcy finally says. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Why are you apologizing?” Bucky interrupts her, his voice a little gruff.

Darcy looks even more uncomfortable.

“Well, I shouldn’t have come in the interrogation room. I’m no Avenger and it also wasn’t my place to—I mean I shouldn’t have said all those things.”

“You care about Buck. You saw him upset and wanted to defend him. There’s nothing wrong with that,” Steve retorts with conviction and Darcy averts her gaze, looking everywhere but at them.

“He’s right,” Bucky blurts out suddenly, the words coming out of him without him realizing it before they were out.

Darcy’s eyes settle on him and he can read the doubt in them. There are so many things he wish he could say to her. He wish he could explain how what she said is a balm to his tortured soul ~~if he even still has one with all his sins~~ , even though his mind isn’t sure yet if it believes her words or not. But since he knows he won’t be able to put even a sentence out before his uncertainty and fear of messing everything up by saying something the wrong way gets the better of him and makes him fall silent, he settles for something simple but clear instead.

“Thank you,” Bucky tells her, hoping she’ll stop feeling bad and hear in his tone how damn grateful he is to her.

Darcy opens her mouth but nothing comes out. With slightly tearful eyes, she finally gave him a faint nod as to let him know she understands what he doesn’t say. And knowing her and her uncanny ability to read him, she probably does.

“Captain Rogers, the team is waiting on you,” FRIDAY announces with a certain tenseness in her tone—it never fails to amaze him and scare him, too, sometimes how human FRIDAY sounds.

“I’m coming,” Steve answers with a sigh before looking at Bucky, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be all right without me, pal?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, watching Steve as he puts his metal hand upon his best friend’s, then faces Darcy with a semblance of a smile on his face. “I’m not alone. I’ve got Darcy.”

The beautiful smile that blooms on Darcy’s face and the contented and happy grin on Steve’s is enough to chase away the last remnants of his disastrous face to face with Pavlov. For the first time since a very long time ~~since before HYDRA? Before the war? Ever?~~ , he thinks that things could be good one day. He’s not ready to believe it, _to hope for it_ , yet but he’s ready to acknowledge the very real possibility. Maybe it won’t be before long but, no matter what happens in the future, with both of them being there for him and supporting him, he’s pretty sure he’ll be able to deal with anything that comes his way.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... was the wait worth it? Did you like the smut? It's been a long time since I wrote smut so I don't how good (or bad) it is. So please, PLEASE, let me know what you think. If you can't feel the desperation in my words, here's a GIF that'll make you understand how desperate I am to know what you think of the smut lol.


	10. The Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No, you're not dreaming! I'm back! So sorry for the long wait, but my life has been awfully complicated those last few months between my health problems, my personal problems and my work. Anyway, hope you're still interested in that story. Here's a new chapter for you. Happy reading! :) 
> 
> Once again, it's unbetaed so sorry for the mistakes. If something really doesn't make sense or makes your eyes bleed, let me know.

Darcy knows she probably should left James alone. After getting together with Steve, Steve’s departure less than an hour ago and James’s confrontation with Pavlov, he must have a lot of things to think about and feelings to deal with. The thing is, Darcy’s pretty sure he’s gonna focus on what Pavlov—that scum of the universe—told him and he’ll start believe it... if he doesn’t already. She really doesn’t want that to happen. Because she’s afraid that if he starts believing the lies Pavlov has spewed, his progress these last few weeks and his new relationship with Steve will be as good as gone. And there’s no way she’s gonna let that happen if she can prevent it.

“Come on, Darcy, it’s just James,” she tells herself before knocking on his and Steve’s door.

Right away, the door opens to reveal a empty living room. Darcy frowns, lost.

“What the—?”

“Excuse me, Miss Lewis, but Sergeant Barnes just gave you unlimited access to the apartment,” FRIDAY informs her. “You may come in.”

She suddenly feels overwhelmed. James, who has trust issues a mile long, authorized her to come and go as she pleases in his home, probably the only place he feels truly safe. She doesn’t know how to deal with someone’s trusting her that much. She’s never experienced that before. Well, except with Thor, but they’re very close friends and have known each other for years so it’s different. Also, the God of Thunder trusted Loki despite his numerous lies and tricks so there’s that.

“Miss Lewis?” the AI asks, sounding concerned.

It makes Darcy snap out of her thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, FRIDAY,” she says as she gets inside.

The door closes itself behind her. Darcy came here twice to watch some movies with James so she knows the place. Slowly, she walks toward James’s bedroom whose door is ajar. She can see his feet on the bed. Taking a deep breath, she pushes the door and enters his room. He’s lying on the bed with his back against the headboard. His intense gaze is on her right away. She can read the inner turmoil eating him up in his eyes. Her stomach knots up. She hopes it’s not too late to stop him from getting lost in a well of self-hatred and despair.

“Hey,” she tells him with a little wave.

“Hey,” he says back, his voice just above a murmur.

She stops a few feet away from his bed. She quickly feels awkward standing here like that.

“Wanna sit down?”

She nods and sits next to him. There’s only some inches separating them right now. Yet, the atmosphere is just as weird as before.

“I—” he begins as she says, “You—”

They both stop talking at the same time. James smiles faintly and she chuckles a little in the hope of making the moment less tense. She doesn’t really know what caused this uneasiness between them, but she doesn’t like it and wants it to disappear as soon as possible.

Taking her courage in both hands, she decides to do what she came here for.

“You okay?”

He opens his mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. After a few seconds, he snaps his mouth shut and shakes his head. His expression right at this moment is so heartbreaking that Darcy can feel tears well up in her eyes. Why does it keep happening to him? He’s gone through so much already. He deserves peace and happiness. He doesn’t deserve HYDRA still torturing him in new ways.

“Please, tell me you don’t believe what this piece of shit told you in the interrogation room,” she almost implores him.

He looks away, his jaw contracted, and she knows it’s exactly what’s happening here. He’s letting the poison distilled by Pavlov infect his mind. A wave of anger submerges her and she swears to herself that HYDRA won’t win again. Not this time. Not ever. Not when it comes to James and Steve. She won’t let them hurt those two men again.

“You heard what I said to him, right?”

He doesn’t react, but she knows he did. He was right there and he even thanked her for it afterward.

“I swear to you, James Buchanan Barnes, if I need to make you listen to what I said about you every fucking hour of the day to make you forget about his lies and start to believe in yourself, I will. It will annoy the hell out of you very quickly and you’ll probably hate me and the sound of my voice for the rest of your life and won’t want to see me ever again, but I’ll do it.”

“I could never hate you,” he tells her in a low voice and the certainty in his tone makes her heart beats faster.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you’re not denying you’ll get fed up with my voice,” she jokes and an amused snort escapes him.

“I could never hate your voice, either. It’s actually one of my favorite sounds in the world and I don’t think it will ever change.”

Dear Frigga, help me! she thinks, panicked. How is she supposed to get over her stupid crush when James keeps saying and doing things like that? As always when she feels cornered, she resorts to humor.

“Wait until you hear me sing before you say something like that. You might think otherwise, then.”

James doesn’t retort anything. Instead, he watches her with hawk-like eyes. She can tell he knows what she’s doing, but she has no idea if he suspects why she’s doing it. She hopes not. She’ll be mortified if he ever understands that she’s not insensible to his charm. Well, actually, it’s not totally right. The problem is not his attractiveness. Sure, he’s handsome and it doesn’t hurt anything, but she met her fair share of beautiful men—hell, she currently lives with a lot of drool-worthy specimens—and she never felt that way about any of them. No, it’s his sincerity, his kindness to her and the way he treats her like she’s important and special that make her forget they’re just friends. But they are only friends and it’ll never change. And her brain and heart really need to get the memo soon because she doesn’t want to lose his and Steve’s friendship if they notice something.

“Darcy—”

“You want me to stay here with you?” she asks, interrupting him.

She has no idea what he was about to say but she gets the feeling she wouldn’t have liked it. Not only does she never react well to rejection, but she wants to think that if they don’t acknowledge her crush, they can act as if doesn’t exist and nothing will have to change between them.

“I mean, not here in this bed, obviously, but in the apartment,” she goes on, embarrassed due to his absence of reaction. “I could stay until Steve is back so you’re not alone and you won’t fall down the rabbit hole of self-loathing.”

It might be the most stupid idea she ever had because it won’t help her get over her feelings for him at all, but she made her bed so she’s going to have to lie in it.

“I... Yeah. I’d like that.”

Don’t blow his words out of proportion, she mentally repeats herself like a mantra. He’s just being nice, that’s all.

“Good. What do you say we start preparing dinner together?” she suggests him, knowing that the most effective way to distract James from his thoughts is giving him something else to focus on.

He nods his assent and gets up. He offers her his hand to help her up. It’s his right hand, she immediately notices. Deliberately, she takes hold of his metal one instead, and after a second of surprise, he closes his fingers on hers and helps her stand up. She leads the way and he follows her. Before they cross the threshold, she turns around to face him.

“You’re a good man, James Barnes, probably one of the best I know, and _nothing_ will ever make me think otherwise.”

His breath stutters at her words and she can see him swallow with difficulty.

“Let’s go. We have a dinner to make.”

 

***

 

James and her develop some sort of routine as days go by. They don’t spend all their time together, but almost, since there’s no Avenger except Tony and Vision (who’s still not ready to go back on the field for some reason) on base. Darcy distracts him with everything she can think of: movies, music, cooking, walks. When he’s not with her, he distracts himself with exercise. Sometimes, when he’s not back after several hours, she goes in the gym to remind him to drink and eat something because she knows he won’t think about it. After the fifth time doing that, she decides to broach a subject he probably won’t like but which can’t be avoided any longer.

“Did you consider therapy?” she asks him as he drinks some water from the bottle she brought him.

He stops drinking and slowly closes the cap, his eyes focused on the bottle.

“Tired of me already, doll?” he says dryly without looking at her.

She knows a deflection when she hears one. After all, she’s the Queen of Deflection herself.

“You know I’m not, but I can’t be your crutch forever. Neither can Steve. It’s not helping. Actually, it’s probably making things worse because you’re avoiding your problems and not facing them.”

Darcy falls silent, searching for the right words.

“I told you some time ago that you had time to decide whether you were ready to get better or not. And technically, you have all the time in the world. Like I said, your trauma’s not going anywhere. But the thing is the longer you wait, the harder it will be to take that first step that is asking for help. And I know what I’m talking about. I waited months after my second alien invasion slash brush up with death to accept to see a SHIELD mandated therapist. Because I thought that if I was still functioning despite the nightmares, the flashbacks and co, it meant I was okay. Because I thought that if I ignored it long enough, it would go away. But it won’t. It can’t. If what happened with the Asshole with a capital A proved anything, it’s that your past unfortunately will always be there. So since it’s not going anywhere, you need to find a way to live with it so it no longer has so much power over you. And the only way to do that is to talk to someone who’s qualified to help you get better.”

She pauses to let her words make their way in his mind.

“Don’t you want to be happy with Steve? Don’t you think that your issues will end up coming between the two of you if you don’t do something about them? I sure as hell don’t want to see that happen and I’m certain you don’t want to either.”

It’s a low blow but she’s not above playing dirty to reach her goal. Especially if that goal is a good one. She can tell he’s still hesitating so she chooses to use her last argument, the one that has the most chance to work on him.

“Also, if Steve sees you go to the therapist, he’ll maybe accept to go see one himself.”

James’s wide eyes are suddenly trained on her. He clearly doesn’t understand what she’s talking about.

“You can’t tell me you don’t think he needs to see someone to talk about everything he went through. I mean, World War II, the Battle of New York, Sokovia, Washington D.C. and all the other battles. The man is living a never-ending war and never talks about it. He just keeps fighting and fighting and fighting. It’s not healthy.”

James shakes his head, looking like he doesn’t believe her. Her incomprehension results in a frown.

“Of course I think he needs to see someone... but I thought he already was.”

“What?” Darcy blurts out, taken aback.

“He’s been working with SHIELD and the Avengers for years,” he tells her like it’s an answer.

And it kinda is, she realizes, seeing where he comes from. Of course James assumed the good guys were doing things right.

“SHIELD made Steve save the world again a few days after he’s been defrosted. After that, since he did the job and didn’t crack, I suppose SHIELD just assumed they could use him without making him see a therapist. Maybe they thought that the serum made his mind as tough as his body. Or maybe they were too afraid of getting his back up. Who knows what’s the real reason... Anyway, have you seen them the Avengers? Don’t get me wrong, I love them all. Really. But if avoiding your problems and trauma was an Olympic discipline, they would all get a gold medal. Only Sam tried to make Steve see someone, probably because he’s been a counselor and can tell when someone needs therapy, but to no avail so far.”

James is silent for a long time after that. She lets him mull over what she said. She knows it’s no an easy decision to make because asking for help is probably one of the hardest things to do.

“Okay,” he says after what felt like an eternity.

“Okay?” she repeats, not believing her ears.

“I’m gonna go see someone.”

She can’t help herself. She throws herself at him to hug him. She remembers too late that it’s not something she should do with someone who hasn’t been asked his consent for so long and who’s still not used to being touched. She starts to back away, but his arms go around her to embrace her and she freezes.

“It’s okay,” he reassures her, probably guessing what’s going on her mind.

She lets out a breath of relief and relaxes.

“Shit,” James suddenly swears, backing away. “I’m sweaty and—”

“It’s okay,” she cuts him off, using his words back.

James has an instant of hesitation but he hugs her back again. They stay like that for some time until James’s phone beeps, signaling a new message. It’s probably Steve. Since his departure nine days ago, he texted James a few times to let him know how things were going and asking how they were doing. They put an end to their embrace and James goes to check his phone in the locker room.

Darcy exhales loudly as soon as he’s out of sight. What is she doing? Hugging him? Really? When she’s trying so hard to squash the feelings she’s starting to develop for him? She’s messing up. Badly. Her heart will end up shattered to pieces one day soon and she would have only herself to blame for that.

“Steve says hi!” James shouts from the locker room.

She suddenly feels sick. Here she is thinking about her feelings for James while his boyfriend, _her friend_ , sends a message to his lover and even thinks about her in the middle of his mission to save the world because he’s nice like that. She’s horrible.

“You okay?” James asks her when he’s back.

She nods, even though she feels like she’s about to throw up. She should take her distance with him. She should do it right now. The thing is, she can’t. And she hates herself so much for that.

“Let’s go back home to eat something and watch a movie. My pick this time.”

It’s just something innocent because he’s talking about his house, but him using the word “home” when talking about the two of them makes her both elated and even more guilty. She didn’t know you could feel two emotions so contradictory before today.

“Okay.”

They leave the gym and go back to his and Steve’s apartment. They put three frozen pizzas in the oven—James can eat like five persons after hours of exercise—and start watching an old movie from James and Steve’s time. She couldn’t tell the title of the movie to save her life. The only thing her mind is able to focus on is how she’s the most shittiest person that ever walked the earth. She’s still in the same mindset when they start eating their pizzas. She can tell James noticed something is up with her, but he doesn’t know how to ask. Or maybe he’s afraid to get the answer to his question. So the silence drags on, becoming slowly but surely uncomfortable.

“Pardon the interruption, Miss Lewis and Sergeant Barnes, but Sir needs to talk to you.”

Something in FRIDAY’s words makes alarm bells ring in Darcy’s head. Given James’s expression, he, too, feels that there’s something wrong.

“Tony?” she asks, dread pooling in the pit of her stomach.

“Barnes is with you?”

“Yes,” James answers in her place, his tone devoid of emotion.

They can hear Tony inhale deeply.

“It’s the team.”

“What?” Darcy reacts, panic overwhelming her now.

“Something happened.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Evil laughter* I'm a horrible person, right? Ending the chapter like that, how cruel of me. Well, that's me to a T. Sorry not sorry ^^


	11. The Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look at that! A new chapter so soon! It's a miracle lol! 
> 
> You wanted to know what happened to the team? You're about to get your answer... well, sort of. 
> 
> Happy reading, dear readers! :)

  _Approximately_ _one hour before the previous chapter’s cliffhanger_

 

“Looks like you were having a very good dream,” Sam comments with a smirk, his face hovering just above his.

Steve snorts, already alert even though he was still asleep just a few seconds ago. Sam straightens up.

“How did you guess?” he asks his friend.

Running a hand through his hair, Steve sits up on the makeshift bed (that is actually a metal bench) he lay on to make a quick nap because last time he slept was two days ago. Clint joked once that he could sleep on anything, even a rock. He’s probably not wrong. His days in the Army taught him to sleep anywhere he could because you never know when you’ll be able to sleep again.

“Well, the pornographic moans were kinda telling.”

Steve can feel the tips of his ears and his cheeks become warm as he blushes when he notices the expression on Sam’s face. He’s just messing with him.

“Asshole,” he tells him good-naturedly.

Sam chuckles as he sits beside him on the bench.

“Seriously, you did seem peaceful in your sleep. Which is rare. I wonder what brought this change,” he teases with a smile.

Sam loves to rib him, partly because it’s in his nature, and partly because he knows the others—except Natasha—often have a hard time not treating him like the Captain and he knows Steve needs to be reminded that he’s not just Captain America. Still, he can tell that his friend is happy for him. Steve can’t remember the last time he felt like that. It was before the ice, before the Army, before his mom’s death. It was so long ago. When he woke up in this century, he truly didn’t think he would ever feel happy again. He was grateful to even be able to function after everything he lost. But now Bucky is here and they’re together, and as much as this new development fills him with joy, he’s also afraid. It's something he hasn’t felt in a long time. He’s scared of messing up, of losing Bucky again, of something happening to him or Bucky. For so long he had nothing to lose. Now he has everything. It’s a frightening thought.

“Seems like you’re having deep thoughts,” Sam remarks, serious now. “Wanna talk about it?”

Steve merely shakes his head. Now is not the time to go through his many issues.

“Let me guess,” Natasha says as she joins them, her hands on her hips. “You’re teasing him about Barnes again.”

It’s not a question, it’s a statement. Well, even if she wasn’t the spy that she is, she would have known. Sam has been doing that non-stop since their departure from the Facility seven days ago. Not that Steve is complaining. It feels good to be able to joke about something positive for once. Usually, Sam and him use their sense of humor to get through hard times.

“What can I say? He’s so adorable when he’s in love. I just can’t help myself,” Sam jokes.

Steve rolls his eyes as Natasha smiles, seemingly amused.

“Seriously, I can’t wait to see he, Barnes and— _Ow!_ The hell, Romanoff?”

Natasha’s only answer is a death glare.

“Stop talking, Wilson. Now. Or I will be forced to use more drastic measures on you.”

“What—Oh. _Oh!_ ” Sam says suddenly, looking surprised, before shooting a glance at Steve. “Are you serious right now?”

Steve has no idea if the question is addressed to him or to Natasha. It feels like it’s for him, though, and Steve doesn’t know how to react because he has no idea what the whole discussion is about.

“See?” Natasha tells Sam, smug.

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Steve asks.

“Nope,” Natasha and Sam both react at the same time.

“How can he not know?” Sam wonders, his eyes on Natasha, his expression incredulous.

“Rogers,” Natasha simply answers and the way she says it sounds like a complete explanation.

Steve is pretty sure he should be vexed right about now.

“Okay, I can tell when someone is poking fun at my obliviousness. And what you two are doing right now? That’s exactly it.”

Natasha and Sam exchange a look before the ex-soldier chuckles. The redhead merely shakes her head like she can’t believe what Steve just said.

“I’m glad to know you’re not oblivious to the fact you’re oblivious, Captain Oblivious,” she retorts, deadpan.

They can all hear Clint’s guffawing and Wanda’s muffled laugh from the pilot cabin of the Quinjet.

“I think that sentence just hurt my brain, Nat,” Clint comments from his pilot seat.

Sam snorts at that and Natasha, who’s looking right at Steve, smirks like she knows something she can’t wait for him to discover.

“I—” Steve begins, but a sound they all know prevents him from trying to know what it is.

It’s the signal that let them know they’re less than five minutes away from their destination. Just like that, everyone becomes dead serious, their minds focused on their third mission which is a secret underground HYDRA base they plan on destroying—the two previous ones were similar bases that Natasha had discovered during her hunt for any remaining HYDRA operatives.

“Sitrep,” Steve demands with his Captain’s voice.

They all know what awaits them since Natasha briefed them a few hours ago, but they never get into too much detail before they’re close to their target in order for everyone to have all the important info fresh on their minds when attacking. Clint and Wanda join them in the back, the Quinjet now on auto-pilot.

“Thirty-seven guards with military training and heavily armed, and nine non-combatants,” Natasha answers, FRIDAY projecting on a wall an holographic blueprint of the base with red points for the soldiers and purple ones for the scientists and developers.

“There’s no Enhanced, right?” Wanda asks with a frown.

Steve glances at her, taken aback by her question.

“None that we know of.”

“Do you know what kind of weapons they have?” Sam intervenes. “No, because not all of us are super so that would be great to know what awaits us mere humans in this base.”

“According to Redwing’s scans, they got assault rifles, grenades, automatic guns and knives,” Natasha informs him.

“You stole Redwing? No, wait. You _used_ Redwing?” Sam says, surprised, before a gloating smile takes place on his lips. “Man, I knew you secretly loved my bird.”

Natasha snorts in response.

“Keep dreaming.”

“What are we supposed to retrieve exactly? Because you didn’t tell us a lot except that they had dangerous weapons they shouldn’t have,” Wanda chimes in, still frowning like something is worrying her.

Steve can’t help but wonder what’s going on with her. He hopes that whatever is happening in her head won’t stop her from being one hundred percents with them and doing her part without getting hurt.

“I don’t know. I just know that they have something otherworldly and dangerous in their possession and we must get it back because it could cause mass destruction, according to my intel.”

“The usual, then,” Sam mutters, looking fed up.

Steve can understand his friend’s reaction. He feels like him. Humans playing with forces they have no business meddling with is something they’re all too familiar with. One would think history would have taught them to stop doing that, but no. It’s like humanity never learns from past mistakes and just keeps on repeating them again and again and again.

“Everyone’s ready?” Steve asks the team.

They all nod and make sure that their comm pieces function. Then Clint grabs his bow and his quiver, Natasha checks her Widow Bites and her guns, Sam takes out his two automatic guns out of his holsters. Steve puts on his cowl, takes hold of his shield and goes to stand next to Wanda.

“You okay?” he questions her, hiding his worry for her.

She looks at him and something in her gaze makes alarm bells go off in his head.

“I—Yes. It’s just a feeling, you know?”

“A feeling?” he asks and he’s afraid to know what she means by that.

“Yes. Like—”

The hatch of the Quinjet starts opening and he knows that their time is up. Whatever the problem is, Wanda is gonna have to make do with it.

“Avengers, let’s find the weapons, destroy this base and go home,” Steve declares and the team starts leaving the Quinjet as one.

They all know they only have less than one minute to get inside the base before the disruption FRIDAY is causing on the surveillance camera feeds will be noticed and arouse suspicion. That’s why as soon as they’re out, Sam grabs Clint by the elbows and flies with him to drop him on the roof of the abandoned warehouse close to the opening of the cave HYDRA uses to go in and out of their underground base. If anyone tries to flee, Clint will get them, and if something happens above, he’ll see it and be able to let them know and do something about it while they get back on the surface.

The rest of the team runs toward the cave and gets inside. Natasha directs them toward the concealed door in a corner and opens it with FRIDAY’s help to reveal a long and dark sloping hallway. Sam releases Redwing and the drone becomes invisible like the Quinjet they flied in order to not be spotted by governments and HYDRA. Redwing starts its reconnaissance mission, FRIDAY helping it progressing through the base by opening the doors for it. They all watch the images on Sam’s wrist screen. It quickly becomes evident something’s not right. There’s no heat signature.

“Am I the only one who thinks it’s a trap?” Sam wonders out loud.

“No, you’re not,” Steve says, feeling a sense of foreboding. “But we still have a mission to accomplish so let’s get on with it.”

They start walking. Steve is in the front just in case something happens. He won’t allow someone of the team to be hurt if he can prevent it. Sam is just behind him in order to show him if Redwing spots something that can let them know what’s going on in here. The more they progress through the base, the worse the atmosphere become. With his heightened sense of smell, Steve can tell they’re about to discover a bloodbath. And he’s right. There’s red splattered everywhere. It’s like a life-size macabre contemporary artwork.

“What the hell?” Sam mutters beside him.

“Don’t be distracted,” Steve reminds them all sternly because he can feel the team becoming more and more disturbed by what’s around them. “We don’t who or what did that. They could still be in here.”

A deep and rumbling sound echoes throughout the base. They all freeze in the middle of the large hallway they’re in.

“Was that a... laugh?” Wanda asks and Steve can hear her stress in her tone.

“I—”

“Shit!” Sam interrupts him, the word full of surprise and worry.

“What is it?” Steve asks, throwing a quick glance at him before visually scanning the area again.

They’re surrounded by closed doors and something or someone very dangerous is definitely here. He doesn’t want to let them get the drop on them... but it does feel like they’re sitting ducks.

“Redwing is down.”

“What?” Steve says, surprised.

There’s no way they could have noticed it. Tony’s technology is far too advanced for that.

“Something caught it and destroyed it. Can’t say what.”

“Be ready,” Steve simply orders, the tension in him evident in his voice.

They all prepare themselves to fight. Because they can all feel it. The enemy is coming for them.

There’s another sound piercing the silence. This time it’s similar to the excited and aggressive bark of a big dog... except Steve is pretty sure it’s not one. Something big and black suddenly comes out of a room near them and charges at them. Steve throws his shield at it but the beast seems to barely feel the hit. The shield falls to the ground as the beast plows into him. The force of the impact makes them crash into a wall nearby. He can hear Natasha and Sam shoot at the creature as Steve fights hard to keep its long and pointy teeth away from him. Drool falls in his eyes, making them painful and briefly blind. He can feel something sharp digging in the flesh of his face and shoulder. All of a sudden, the enraged beast stops his assault and collapses on him. He can see the red swirls of Wanda’s power around the creature before it’s thrown a few feet away, freeing him from the heavy weight. Steve immediately stands up, ignoring the pain of the gashes the beast made on his skin. His sight still blurry, he rubs his eyes, trying to get rid of the remaining drool and the burning sensation caused by it.

“What was this thing?” Steve asks Natasha.

The ex-spy goes closer to the creature to examine it.

“Looks like an alien to me,” she tells him.

“And what is an alien doing here, Romanoff?” he demands, feeling some kind of cold fury starting to overwhelm him.

He knows she can tell what the real question is. He wants to know how an alien could be here without her knowing it and warning them about it.

“I don’t know. Whatever they were working on here, it had nothing to do with creatures. It was weapons. Non-living weapons.”

“You sure about it?”

“Positive,” she retorts with utter certainty.

Steve sighs and racks a hand through his hair.

“We need to keep going.”

“Why don’t we just leave and blow up the place? Everyone’s already dead,” Sam reasons.

“We need to know what did that that and we need to know what they were working on,” Steve tells him, his voice brooking no argument.

Steve picks up his shield and they resume their exploration of the place. No sound is heard again. It’s eerily silent and Steve knows it doesn’t bode well. When they happen upon what looks like a huge weapon manufacturing room, they see hundreds of what look like futuristic black guns. Steve approaches a production machine and grabs a weapon. He observes it from every angle to try to understand how it works in order to test it.

“Where is he?” a strange rumbling male voice asks.

Steve’s gaze snaps in the voice’s direction. The one who said that comes out from the shadows. He’s tall, wears dark clothes with golden pattern and a hood with some sort of metal wings, his skin looks like grayish carved stone and he holds a golden glaive. He’s definitely not from around here.

“Who?” Steve asks, all his muscles coiled, his body ready to fight.

“The one we came for,” he answers, evasive, with a worrying smile.

The alien lunges toward Steve and the latter do the same. His shield meets the alien’s weapon with a clang. Quick as lightning, the alien attacks again but Steve blocks his blow. Thus begins a dance of similar fast moves where both try to land a blow but none of them succeed.

“Natasha!” he hears Wanda scream and the cry distracts him for a fraction of second.

It’s enough for his opponent to sweep his legs out from under him with his weapon and send him toppling. Steve tries to stand up but he’s not fast enough and finds himself with the glaive against his throat and the feet of the alien on his chest to keep him on the ground.

“Where are the others?” the alien asks him and stamps hard on Steve’s body, making the bones of his rib cage groan.

It’s like a light bulb goes on in the captain’s head. He’s here for one of the Avengers. One who’s not here.

“Who... are you... after?” Steve questions him, the weapon pressed down on his trachea making it harder and harder to breathe.

The alien’s only answer is a smile. Steve can hear sounds of people fighting nearby. He can’t see them but he knows that his team is under attack and things don’t look good for them. He tries to free himself from under the alien’s glaive but can’t. Opting for another solution, Steve’s takes his knife out and cuts the alien’s Achilles’ tendon, hoping he really has one and needs it to remain standing. The alien lets out a cry and falls to his knees. He reacts almost immediately to try to stab Steve with his glaive, but Steve is faster and slashes his wrist with his knife, making him drop his weapon. Before the alien can retaliate, Steve activates the electromagnetic return of his shield, catches it and repeatedly hits the alien’s skull with it. He’s not dead—Steve doesn’t want that, he needs to know who he’s after and why—but he’s knocked out cold for now. The captain looks around him to assess the situation. Natasha, Wanda and Sam are all fighting black beasts similar to the one that attacked him minutes ago.

“ _Guys!_ What’s going on?” he can hear Clint’s frantic voice ask in his comm piece.

Steve throws his shield toward a beast trying to bite and slash Wanda.

“Wanda! Put them all against the wall! _Now!_ ”

She does as he says and, immediately, Sam and Natasha gun them down. Steve takes stock of his team’s wounds as he sheathes his knife. They’re all hurt and bloody but he doesn’t see anything that seems to be life-threatening.

“Attack!” orders a female voice sounding slightly electronic.

Barks are heard before a wave of black beasts rushes toward them. Natasha and Sam shoots at them. Some fall and don’t get up but others go on. Wanda throws a blast of energy in their direction, which makes them crash at the other end of the hallway. A second later, a few are already running back toward them.

“Let some of them come through,” Steve tells Wanda and she does so.

Two of them lunge at him and he starts fighting them. He punches one hard and hits the other in the head with his shield. He grabs one of the four arms of the first creature and throws it against a wall. He’s about to smash its skull with his shield when the second beast closes its mouth on his left forearm. He lets out a muffled cry of pain but fights back and punches the creature in the head again and again until it releases him, a piece of his arm going with him. Steve doesn’t lose time looking at the damage, he immediately lunges at the other beast to kill it by plunging repeatedly his knife in his head. When he’s done, he can see the team has gotten rid of the other creatures. He searches around him for the woman—because he’s sure he heard a female voice—who spoke a few moments ago but there’s nothing around them except dead bodies. That’s when he realizes something is missing.

“Where is he?” he asks the others, his voice hard, his frantic gaze looking around him in the hope of seeing the body of the alien he knocked out moments ago.

He can’t be gone. _He can’t._ They need him to know which Avenger they’re after.

“I don’t know. I didn’t see him run away,” Wanda says, her head down, as she’s the only one who could have seen him leave since she was the only one not engaged in hand-to-hand combat during the fight.

Steve clenches his fists in frustration and anger. He’s about to tell the team they need to investigate the rest of the base when he hears Sam’s faint voice.

“Steve?”

Steve whirls around to discover a sweating and stumbling Sam. Alarmed, he rushes toward his friend to keep him upright.

“Sam! What’s going on?” he asks, worried.

“I—I don’t... know.”

His words are slurred and Steve can see he has trouble keeping his eyes open. He checks his wounds but he can’t see anything that could explain his friend’s state.

“Natasha, grab a few weapons and let’s go back to the Quinjet. He needs medical attention.”

“Done,” Natasha immediately answers.

They all start to jog up to the surface. Barely one minute later, Sam loses consciousness and Steve has to carry him. His worry becomes a full-on panic when he hears a muffled sound and glances behind him to see Natasha on the ground.

“Natasha!” Steve cries out but she doesn’t answer. “Wanda, can you—?”

He falls silent when he catches sight of Wanda leaning on the wall next to her to remain standing up. There’s not enough light to allow him to see her face but he knows she’s just as sweaty as Sam is. No. It can’t be happening. Steve doesn’t know what’s going on but he can’t lose his team. No, they’re not just his team. They’re his friends. His family.

Suddenly lightheaded, he can feel himself swaying a little. A fire is starting inside his body, and in no time at all, his limbs, his veins, his skin, everything feels like it’s burning.

“Clint,” he articulates with difficulty in his comm piece. “We need... need... We—”

He can’t go on, his mind too sluggish. His thoughts stop making sense. Hurting and feeling weak, he drops Sam, his friend’s body landing heavily on the ground. He tries to do something, anything, but his body doesn’t respond anymore. It’s his turn to fall to the ground. It’s not long before he can’t resist the urge to close his eyes. The faces of Natasha, Sam and Wanda flash in his mind. He hopes they’re... He no longer know what he hopes. His last thought before losing consciousness is of a man with dark hair and a smile as radiant as the sun and a woman with kind blue eyes and the reddest lips he ever saw. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I'm a monster. I could say I'm sorry for yet another cliffhanger but it would be a lie. I really hope the fight wasn't too lame. I suck at writing fight scenes. 
> 
> Anyway, don't worry, the next chapter is coming soon and you'll finally know what is happening to our favorite heroes. 
> 
> Also, in case it wasn't clear, Steve and the team just met Corvus Glaive and Proxima Midnight. For those of you not familiar with the names of Thanos's Black Order members, they are the two aliens who are attacking Vision and Wanda when Steve makes his memorable entrance in Infinity War :P

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked this chapter, please leave a comment! But, well, if you don't have the time or just don't know what to write, clicking on the Kudos button will do ;)
> 
> M.


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